


Crimson & All Its Colors

by wasted_potential_007



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A few golden moments of fluff and happiness, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Dark Stuff, Death, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, It's not as bad as it seems but then it is, Killing, More angst, Protective!Natasha, Red Room, Self-Harm, So much angst, Swearing, Torture, Trauma, Violence, none of them are okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-05-04 15:50:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14596389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasted_potential_007/pseuds/wasted_potential_007
Summary: During the end of Civil War, Wanda gets captured by a secret organization known as SWORD. Horrible stuff ensues. She's tortured and forced to kill. When she is found, it seems like nothing can heal her, except for Natasha.orWanda gets put into a Red Room copy except it's for teens.Oh yeah Wanda is 19 in this (ignore my note where it says she's 20) and Natasha's like 26Major character death archive warning is for mentions of Pietro's death.Infinity war doesn't happen (yet)Hopefully updates every two weeks.All characters being to Marvel. No copyright infringement intended.oops we’re on hiatus ‘cause of real life shit [written 10-6-2018]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the crappy summary.
> 
> So I basically had a plot bunny that WOULD NOT get out of my head and I had to write this... my first Marvel fic, forgive me for any errors in the Civil War end scene.  
> I just want to write this whole thing into one chapter cause I want to get it out honestly it sucks that I don't have enough time to type it all out...
> 
> For the rape/non-con part, it's not graphic. That might change in later chapters.

When she wakes up, she's in the middle of a glass chamber, light shining on top of her. The rest of the room is pitch-black and there's no one else there except for her. Wanda looks down, and she's strapped to a chair, her shock collar and straightjacket still ever present from when she was in the custody of the US. The last thing she remembers is seeing Steve bust into the door with his shield, knocking out 20 guards in the process.

She can't remember anything else useful, like how she got here, where she was, or honestly anything after that.

\---

_1 day before_

Steve finally found the hellhole where his friends were being kept. He felt guilty for putting them in this position, where they were trapped in a cell because of fucking Tony Stark. Honestly, he was just really angry at Tony for signing the accords. And Natasha. And Vision.

_Stupid AI._

He busted into the ship and started fighting, knocking out or killing everyone who stood in his path. He would prefer the latter. Steve made his way down to where the rest of the Avengers were being kept, and knocked down the door.

It broke his heart to see them like that.

They were a group, a pack of colleages, but more than that, friends, and they were all locked inside of cages because of a stupid piece of paper. Sam walked around his cell and Clint was sitting, looking defeated. But what caught his eye was Wanda, sitting in the corner in a ball.

_Is that a straightjacket? And a shock collar? Tony, I'm going to kill you._

Immedeatly, everyone turned towards him. They all had grim smiles on their faces, and less than a minute later, they were all out of their cells. Everyone except Wanda. 

Steve ran toward her, busting into her cell.

Then the lights went out.

it couldn't have been for more than two minutes before they flickered back on. But, when he looked to see if Wanda was okay, she was gone.

\---

_"Boss, I've secured the package."_

\---

Wanda knew better than to try to fight her way out of this straightjacket and the shock collar. She had tried before, only to collapse with pain as the electricity coursed through her body. She passed out after that, and never moved after that when she woke up.  

The lights turned on.

"I see, our new recruit has awoken." A man said, stepping in front of the capsole she was being kept in. He was gruff looking, with dirty bonde hair and a black kevlar suit showing off his toned muscles.

Wanda knew better to respond, for fear of being shocked.

"It's nice that the US government has already done some of the hard part. They've broken you, haven't they? That shock collar and straightjacket must have done the trick. I wonder, how many times did you try to escape before you passed out? Hmm?" The man said, as he paced around the glass chamber, holding his hands behind his back.

She kept silent.

"Speak, goddamnit!" The capsule suddenly came down, as the man stormed up and slapped her hard across the face.

The shock collar responded well to that. She closed her eyes as she felt the electricty move around in her body, her face stained with tears. The black void welcomed her after that.

\---

When she woke up, she was completely naked, except for the shock collar and straightjacket. She was still strapped to a chair, except this time she was seated at one of those interrogation tables that seemed to pop out of one of those crime shows she was forced to watch as part of attempting to understand American culture.

When the door cracked open, in came a woman. She was dressed in the same fashion as the man, her brunette hair in a tight bun, her lips blood red as she walked in front of Wanda. 

"We'll begin the process now." The woman said, seemingly speaking to no one.

Wanda didn't know what that meant.

"Your name is Isabel Petrov now. You are a soldier of SWORD. You are a weapon. Not anything else. Your body is a weapon. Your powers are a weapon. Understand?" The woman said, yelling into her face.

"Welcome to Crimson."

Then, there was a sharp pain, and she fainted into unconsiousness once again.  

\---

She woke up this time butt naked. No shock collar, no nothing. But when she tried to move, she found she couldn't. They seem to have paralyzed her limbs, or something.

Amazingly, Wanda was pretty calm. Correction, numb. The events of the past week had stunned her into feeling nothing; first the imprizonment and now this Crimson thing. She thought of everyone else, hopefully free. Were they looking for her? Did anyone even notice she was gone?

Did Natasha notice she wasn't there?

She was now strapped to a table. There were multiple people in blue gowns and white masks. Doctors, or something. One held up a heated wire and brought it to her skin, on her shoulder blades. 

Wanda couldn't help crying out in pain.

The heated wire scarred her skin as the word "Crimson" written in flowy print was etched onto her shoulder, as she kept yelling and sobbing. Evetually, a doctor stuffed her mouth with some cloth.

She was quiet after that, knowing that screaming out again would mean the cloth would creep its way further into her throat and she would eventually choke to death.

The wire lifted up from her skin finally. Then, the doctor got a scalpel. She felt him push into her abdomen with the sharp tool, the pain almost unbearable as she realized what he was doing. She had looked into Natasha's mind, found that this scene was remarkably similar to what happened to Natasha in the Red Room.

Madame B had said that there was no reason for the girls to be fertile. They were killing machines, after all. No room for messy periods or whatnot.

Now, she knew that she was getting her tubes tied. It was painful, to say the least. 

Her mind drifted back to Natasha, about how young Natasha was when she went through this torture.

\---

She was getting tired of this. Fainting into oblivion, only to wake up in a different place every single time. She was still naked, except in what looked like a dormitory. She was laying on a bed, with a black training bra, underwear, and leggings hanging off the bed frame. Wanda found that she could sit up now. As she did, she felt a sharp pain. Looking down, she found the crudely stiched wound where the doctor had cut into her. There also seemed to be some sort of device embedded into her ankle as well.

She put on the clothes and limply stood up. Suddenly, the doors burst open and about 20 other people, same age as her, filed into the room. They were all late-teens to mid-twenties, with the girls were wearing what she was wearing, while the guys had on black shorts. 

Wanda was amazed at the scars on everyone's bodies. There seemed to be a hundred cuts or bruises on everyone. Many were walking funny or had limp arms as they climbed into bed. Her eyes widened as she saw another woman put shock collars on the teens, and cuff them to the bed frame.

When the woman came over to her, Wanda tried to resist. Needless to say, it didn't work out well. 

She was tased as her red hex powers faded down, the woman taking out a baton and beating her body with it. Each strike onto her abdomen only made her feel more pain, and she cried out each time the baton came down on her body.

No one in the room even said anything, much less rush to help her. 

"No food for you tomorrow and 20 lashes." The woman said in a thick russian accent, as she locked the handcuffs onto Wanda's hands and fastened the shock collar.

Soon after, the woman left the room and turned off the lights.

Wanda turned to the person next to her, a person around 19 years old. "What is this place?" Wanda asked.

"Miss P said no talking." The girl responded, in a defeated whisper.

Wanda didn't have the heart to turn to her other neighbhor and ask the same thing. She knew that whatever this place was, it wasn't good. Natasha's memories had taught her that. If she was correct, what lay ahead was about to the worst time of her life.

Sadly, she was right.

\---

A loud beep woke her up, as the same woman came around to free everyone and take off the collars.  

Wanda's stomach rumbled, as she stood up, put on the shoes next to her bed, and walked outside the room in single file with everyone else. The hallways were bleak, made of concreate, while white light shined down everywhere. It looked like some sort of villian base.

Wanda knew that she had to try to get out of this place.

It was then she realized how little she knew about where she was or what was going to happen to her. All she really had were Natasha's memories, and she couldn't be sure that the Red Room was the same as Crimson, or whatever this place was called. 

They walked into another room after winding through the hallways, where everyone took a tray and went to get a piece of bread and some questionable-looking porridge. When Wanda went to get her food, she was struck down, a sharp pain in her ankle forcing her to crawl around on the ground in pain.

Everyone else stepped over her.

The woman that yelled at her in the interrogation room walked over and picked Wanda up, leading her to a wooden platform. Everyone else sat down, digging into their breakfast. Eerily, no one was talking.

"What's your name?" The woman asked.

"Wanda Maximoff."

"Wrong."

The first crack of the whip lead to a sharp pain on her back. Wanda cried out in pain, her voice the only thing making sound in the room.

The other 19 were just as bad, each strike weakening her resolve even more.

"What's your name?" The woman asked again.

"Wanda Max-" Wanda stuttered. "-imoff."

The next 20 were pure hell, as she cried out again and again and again.

"What's your name?"

"Wan-"

The woman showed no mercy as she kept on whipping Wanda over and over again, each crack telling her to submit. She broke after the 8th strike.

"It's Isabel Petrov. Isabel Petrov!" Wanda screamed, as the woman whipped her.

The woman stopped whipping her.

"My name is Isabel Petrov." Wanda stuttered out, her face slick with tears as she kneeled down from the pain.

"Good."

Then, she got another 20 extra lashes.

"For resisting." The woman said over Wanda's sobs.

Wanda had never wanted to die so badly in her life.

\---

She was soon forced up from the ground as the others all filed out of the room, walking into another place that looked somewhat like an arena. Wanda limped the whole way there. The words "Kill or Be Killed" were written in many different languages on the white walls. There seemed to be blood splattered over some of the walls and on the floor.

"You are a soldier of SWORD. You are a weapon. Your body is a weapon. Your powers are a weapon." The words were repeated over and over again over loudspeakers. Two of the others, one boy and one girl, took fighting positions into the ring. The rest stood around on the walls, Wanda included.

She watched as the boy punched and punched and punched the girl, the girl managing to twist the other boy's arm back after a couple of throws. 

She watched as the girl forced the boy into a headlock.

She watched as the girl snapped the boy's neck, meeting the boy's eyes and watching the life go out of them.

"Good." The woman said.

Wanda sunk, becoming more numb as another died in front of her eyes.

Then it was her turn, and she took a fighting stance that Natasha had taught her in the middle of the ring. She was facing off against another boy, this one with toned muscles and dirty blonde hair.

_He looks like Pietro._

"Begin."

The boy immediatly lunged towards her. Wanda sidestepped easily, the hours and hours of training that Natasha put her through kicking in. By all means, she wasn't the best fighter in any way, but the boy's punches were wild and erratic.

She kicked his balls first. 

As he doubled over, she used her hex powers to lock him in place, the red light filling the room. Apparantly, no one had seen that before, since ther were some gasps of surprise.

"Kill him." The woman said.

Wanda didn't want to.

"NOW."

Wanda thought back to the 68 lashes she had faced this morning, the pain she went through. She didn't want to go through that again, her body couldn't take it.

But could her mind take killing someone?

Before she knew it, she blasted the boy into the concrete walls, her powers willing the boy's heart to stop.

Wanda sobbed as he took his last breath, sinking to her knees as the sound of her cries echoed through the room.

\--- 

She went to bed that night numb and bruised. It hurt to lay on her back, and she couldn't shift around because of the handcuffs or the shock collar. There was only ringing in her ears as she lay awake on her back, with the pain in her back ever present.

Eventually, the tears came, flowing down her cheeks, as she silently cried herself to sleep.

\---

_10 months, 2 weeks, 3 days later._

She awoke to a crash. It took a couple minutes to register that it wasn't the beep that normally woke her up. Wanda,  _Isabel,_ waited for Miss R to come and uncuff her. She would then sit up, go and eat breakfast (oblivious to the cries of whoever Miss P decided to torture that day), kill someone, train some more with the man that had first greeted her times ago, then do "special training."

There would be a guy, kidnapped, almost always buff or manly waiting for her inside of a nice, furnished penthouse that somehow existed in the underground compound. 

_Your body is a weapon._

When the man awoke, he would trash around a bit, maybe try to break out of the windowless room.

It was up to Isabel (not Wanda) to calm him. She would walk out, body in a lacy red thong, and circle him.

Almost always, the man would calm down.

She would kiss him and he would grope her, as he lead her to the bed.

 

Wanda would let it happen, or else she would get raped by someone else rougher.

_Kill him._

She would wait until he came and pulled himself out of her to kill him.

Then, Wanda would curl up in a ball, feeling numb, tears silently streaming down her face. She would think about Natasha when she thought about stopping her own heart with her powers, then decide to carry on one more day. For Natasha.

She would stop crying immediatly when she hears the door crack open and a SWORD worker comes to get her, giving her back her black sports bra and leggings. 

Another crash brought her back to the present as the door came crashing down.

She didn't sit up to look who it was for fear of being shocked.

"Natasha!" Steve yelled, as the shield Wanda thought she would never see again hovered above her. "I found her!"

Wanda could hear footsteps racing down the concrete hallway, and she heard Natasha's voice for the first time in what seemed like forever. "Wanda?" Natasha breathed heavily, as she approached her bed. "Wanda!"

"Let me get this shock collar off her first." Steve said. "And the handcuffs. Jesus, what did they do to you?"

Steve set down his shield to unclapse the collar and unlocked the handcuffs.

"Wanda?" Natasha asked again.

The woman didn't respond, still laying on her back, staring into nothing.

"Wanda!" Natasha said.

After a beat, Wanda responded in a monotone whisper. "Miss P said no talking."

Natasha looked horrified as Wanda said those words, the little witch still staring off to the ceiling. This place teleported her back to Red Room, back to where she was forced to kill girls the same age as her. Back to where she was tortured, beaten, raped for not listening. It killed her to see Wanda like this, a shell of her former self.

It killed her because she knew what Wanda was going through.

Natasha noticed Steve's hand get closer to Wanda's face.

"Uh, Steve, I wouldn't do-"

A powerful flash of red light caused Steve to propel into a nearby bedframe, landing with a hard crash on the ground. Natasha chose to ignore Steve, focusing instead on Wanda.

"He's still an idiot, you know." Natasha said, trying to put on a brave face so that she didn't start bawling in front of Wanda, instead feeiing her insides rip apart seeing Wanda's pain. "Okay," Natasha said, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to put my hand on your face. Is that okay?"

Slowly, Wanda turned her eyes towards Natasha, slightly nodding.

"Okay." Natasha lowered her hand onto Wanda's jawline, bracing herself for a hex blast. 

It didn't come.

Instead, Wanda looked at her, truley looked at her, then started sobbing, tears streaming down her face. Natasha's heart broke into tiny little pieces hearing Wanda's cries, and she slowly lifted Wanda up into sitting position, leaning the little witche's head on her shoulder as Wanda continued to cry.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be all right."

 

  

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just realized that I forgot to proofread the last chapter for any spelling mistakes, so sorry for those..
> 
> Also thank you thank you THANK YOU for showing so much support on this fic! I honestly didn't expect this much support, this is one of the worser fics I've ever written so thank you again! Comments, kudos, bookmarks are appreciated and make my day. I try to respond to everyone who leaves a comment quickly, so don't be afraid!
> 
> And I'm switching between POVs pretty quickly in this one.
> 
> Okay, I'll let you read the chapter now.

Natasha's heart was being ripped apart as she heard Wanda's sobs. They sat there for what seemed like hours, Natasha's arms wrapped around Wanda's frail body, feeling the little witch's scarred back, feeling Wanda's tears seep into her suit. In reality, it was probably more like a couple in minutes, but Natasha wanted to hold Wanda forever and to be there for the little witch because no one was there for her.

It was like one of those dramatic movie scenes when Natasha pulled Wanda up, carrying her in a bridal position amidst the dust and ruin that surrounded them. The facility was destroyed (much of it was because of Tony and his anger) and Natasha walked the hallway now shrouded in darkness, carrying Wanda, who was now asleep.

The soft inhale and exhale of the little witch reminded Natasha about how frail she was, how damaged even before the Accords. The witch looked a lot skinnier than when Natasha first saw her and her powers. When Natasha looked down, she saw that Wanda's hands were callused, her knuckles bloody, the familiar bruises on her wrists that echoed her own. There were hundreds of little cuts on Wanda's left arm, all lined up in neat rows.

A pang of hurt for the little witch coursed through her again when she saw those cuts. She knew those were self-inflicted.

As she walked, she saw the word Crimson written on the walls in flowy lettering.

She shuddered.

Eventually, Natasha reached the top of the compound. It was located in a mountain somewhere on the Andes, its door covered with snow from the high altitude. The Avengers had no idea what they were looking for on that mountain, and it was by chance that Steve found the insignia of a sword etched onto the ground underneath a random rock. The entrance was found a minute later, sitting on a small cliff.

The wind blasted her as she stepped out of the doorframe where the metal door once was. She felt a little shudder from Wanda, still sleeping peacefully. Sam walked up to her, holding out a blanket for Wanda. Natasha climbed in the Quinjet five steps away from the entrance (Sam probably flew it there when she, Tony, and Steve were looking for Wanda) and sat down on a plush seat.

When Steve and Tony finally reappeared, she was still holding Wanda.

She didn't want to let go and force the little witch to face the harsh aftermath of her torture.

"Nat." Steve said gently, capturing her attention. "Let go."

"I can't." Natasha replied, looking at Wanda's sleeping face. "She looks so peaceful right now. Wanda coming back from this? It's going to be harsh. Horrible." Her voice cracked at the last word, and Steve knew she was speaking from experience.

Tony sighed, knowing that it was best not to bother Natasha right now. "Steve. It's fine. Just let her go." He clutched Steve's wrist and eventually, Steve complied, giving Wanda one last look before taking a seat at the front of the jet.

Steve was still angry at Tony for getting Wanda into this situation, but he knew that for how angry he was at Tony, Tony was probably more angry at himself for letting this happen. The rift caused by the Accords was bridged as the Avengers worked together to find Wanda, although Steve still carried some resentment towards everyone who signed the Accords.

The ever-present hum of the jet was the only thing filling the silence as they lifted off.

\---

_She was in that room again, this time facing off against another guy._

_Wanda didn't want to kill him, couldn't kill him, but Miss P would whip her a 100 times if she didn't comply. Her powers were humming beneath her fingers, but they couldn't be used. Miss P had forced her to use a gun and hand-to-hand combat for the past week in the arena._

_"To make you a better soldier," she had said._

_The lessons that Mr. T had taught her finally came into play, Wanda disarming the boy and holding him in a headlock in seconds._

_Except before she killed him, his face morphed into Pietro's, his body turning into Pietro's._

_He stared into her eyes as she snapped his neck._

_\---_

Natasha looked down and saw Wanda's face in anguish, heard the little witch whimper.

She couldn't take it anymore. The pain, it was too similar to hers. Too many times had she woken up in the middle of the night, drentched in sweat, staring at the purple lines on her wrist still there even after 30 years.

"Steve." Natasha called.

"Hmm?" Steve replied, sounding half asleep from the front of the jet.

"Wake her up." Natasha said curtly. "I need a break."

"Okay." He was used to following Natasha's commands without question, knowing that normally stuff like this had to do with her history in the Red Room. It was better not to ask. He got up from the chair, stretched, and walked over to Wanda, who was still sleeping on Natasha's lap. Upon closer look, he could see the pain etched in the little witch's face.

Then, Wanda kicked Natasha square in the jaw.

The redhead recoiled from the hit, silently urging Steve to get Wanda off of her lap.

She couldn't do this.

Be there for Wanda when she hasn't fully healed herself.

Yes, she wanted to help the little witch, be there for her, help her heal. But the pain she felt for Wanda was too much for her to take, and Wanda's experience reminded her too much of her own in the Red Room.

_I'm a coward, running away from my feelings._

Steve quickly pulled Wanda, who was still asleep and whimpering, out of Natasha's lap. Natasha leaped out of the chair not even a second after, dashing to the back of the jet. 

Leaning against the side of the jet, she slowly sunk down to her knees, taking deep, shaky breaths, holding back her sobs and the pain she felt for herself and for Wanda, trying to prevent the rising panic from taking over. 

_"Shoot, Natalia, hit the target." Madame B ordered, pacing around her._

_She emptied the clip in three seconds, almost all of the bullets hitting the dummy smack-dab in the middle of the chest._

_Except for one._

_Natalia's heart sunk when she accidentally missed, shooting the dummy in the shoulder. "Tsk tsk, Natalia, you know better than that." Madame B chided._

_The next thing she felt was the whip hitting her on the back, striking her over and over again._

"Natasha." Sam said, bringing her back to reality. "You okay?"

"Just go Sam. I'm fine." Natasha replied, letting out a shaky breath.

"You sure?"

"Just go!" Natasha shouted. She listened to the footsteps recede towards the front of the ship, towards the front of the ship.

Towards Wanda.

\---

When the Wanda woke up, she was fully expecting the loud beep, Miss R coming to take the shock collar and handcuffs off, sitting up and putting her shoes on. Instead, she was met by a man's worried face, looming on top of her.

Had she failed in killing him? Fallen asleep during seduction? 

Was this the face of death that she welcomed?

Wanda,  _Isabel,_ immediately sat up, taking the man into a headlock. She was about to snap his neck, fully prepared to take the wire in her bra and make another mark on her left forearm and add to the growing collection.

Then she became aware of her surroundings, seeing another man's worried face and where she was sitting.

_This isn't the penthouse._

She looked down at the man she had in a headlock, who was staring at her with wide eyes, wearing an expression of fear. Recognition dawned on her when she realized that this man was Steve.

Steve, who was Captain America, who was kind to her when Tony was in the lab and everyone else was ignoring her.

She knew she should let go, but she couldn't.  _Kill him, Isabel. Or I send Mr. T to you tonight._

"Wanda!" The other man cried out, whom she now recognized as Sam. "Let go!"

"My name is Isabel." Wanda replied, voice monotone. Her mind was on autopilot, and she couldn't take her arm off of Steve's neck, no matter how hard Wanda willed herself to. "I am a soldier of SWORD. My powers are a weapon. My body is a weapon."

"I am a weapon."

A sudden crash turned her attention away from Sam. And there was Natasha, standing in front of her, red hair looking perfect as always, her gaze burning into Wanda's soul. "Wanda." Natasha said, voice stern. "Let go of Steve."

_Natasha was here._    

"I can't let go." Wanda said, voice smaller, this time uneven and wavering.

Natasha's heart ripped into pieces again, seeing the pain in Wanda's eyes, seeing how she still had Steve in a headlock. She knew that the little witch couldn't help it, that this is what she had been programmed to do the last 10 months.

She had been programmed to do that too.

"Wanda." Natasha said again, taking a hesitant step forward. "You can let go."

"No, I can't." Wanda replied, voice wavering even more.

"Yes, you can." Natasha was now right in front of Wanda, staring into her eyes. "Let me help you." She touched Wanda's right arm, still wrapped around Steve's neck, looking to Wanda for confirmation to continue. The little witch responded with a tiny nod, still staring at Natasha with glassy eyes. Natasha gently wrapped her hand around the arm, using a small amount of force to unravel Wanda's arm from Steve's neck. The former soldier slowly backed away from the two women, fading into the background.

Natasha was still grasping onto Wanda's arm, Wanda's arm was still held up in the air with Natasha's, they were still staring at each other. With what, Steve didn't know.

He felt like he was intruding on an extremely private moment, for some reason.

Then Wanda dropped her arm down and fell into Natasha's chest, loud sobs coursing through her body as she covered her face with her hands in shame. Her trauma, her grief, her sadness all came flooding down with the tears. It was like a gate had been opened or a dam had burst; Wanda's cries were loud and absolutely gut-wrenching as she wept into Natasha.

Natasha immediately wrapped her arms around Wanda, her instinct telling her to protect this girl who had already been through so much. Her mind, however, was telling her to let go, to pass Wanda off to Sam, to go into the back of the jet again and prevent another panic attack from happening.

She didn't let go, even as red light swirled around her and Wanda, floating them slightly off the ground.

\---

_Natasha had her. She was okay. Isabel wasn't here, Wanda was._

_She thought back to the first time she had met Natasha, when she was still fighting against her, infiltrating her mind and extracting the redhead's darkest memories. She remembered feeling sorrow and pain for Natasha as she saw a little girl being wheeled on a hospital bed, handcuffed to the guardrails._

_Never had she thought that she would go through the same experience._

_She remembered seeing the woman break down in front of her, her eyes turning scarlet red and the sweat pouring down her face, remembered thinking that this woman was absolutely beautiful._

_When she became an Avenger, she remembered Natasha ignoring her, running away from her every second she saw her._

_She never said sorry for the pain she had caused._

_She remembered staring at Natasha from afar, training in the gym, punching away at an imaginary foe that was the punching bag, getting a little more turned on with every single punch that landed on the black bag._

_She remembered that one night where she was grieving for Pietro, sobbing into her pillow, when Natasha cracked open her bedroom door and sat down on the bed with her. Natasha had held her until she fell asleep, comforting her with a warmth and kindness she hadn't felt in a long time._

_She remembered the next day when Natasha caught her staring at the gym. "Let's train together," she had said, holding out an open hand and inviting Wanda into the room._    

_She remembered her back hitting the gym mat the 78th day of training, Natasha looming over her, the two becoming aware of how close they were. Remembered Natasha's pupils getting darker and larger, remembered Natasha's mouth crashing into hers for a quick second before the redhead pulled away, eyes wide with shock, and ran from the room._

_Wanda's candle for Natasha never went out even as she was held and tortured and raped over and over again._

_She still hasn't forgotten that kiss._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I spellchecked it this time so it should be fine.
> 
> Again, thank you for all of the support on this fic! Feel free to comment.
> 
> Also, my uploading times for any of my fics is pretty erratic, so I can't guarantee another update tomorrow, although I probably will update this soon since I can't stop thinking about it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple author's notes-
> 
> Yes, I chose to make Wanda a little younger than she probably is in Civil War, but that's just to fit the storyline. Also, I did basically no medical research on this chapter, so forgive me if I'm wrong (I'm going off the stuff I learned in Grey's Anatomy so...)   
> And if there are any grammatical errors in here, sorry for those too.
> 
> Kay read the chapter now :)

3 broken bones. 2 fractures. 1 concussion. Hundreds of different wounds, ranging from grazes to deep cuts, almost showing the bone. Another hundred bruises, some light purple, some black.

Not to mention the what must be hundreds of cuts on Wanda's left arm.

Those were the physical wounds.

Natasha didn't even want to imagine the mental ones.

Wanda had been rushed to the nearest hospital once they had hit US soil, Natasha worrying that the wounds that Wanda suffered from Crimson would lead to her death. The little witch had fallen asleep once again in Natasha's arms on the Quinjet, and Natasha once again didn't have the heart to let her go. She knew that Wanda's wounds had to be treated.

Both physical and mental.

How they would treat the latter ones, she didn't know.

No therapist would probably be willing to treat Wanda. Natasha knew that herself, from the seven therapists she had scared away with her descriptions of Red Room. Wanda's trauma was too much for any person to handle, any person to go through, and Natasha thought it wasn't fair that it had to be Wanda to go through this pain.

Wanda, who lost her other half to Ultron.

Wanda, who lost her parents to Tony.

Wanda, who was lost herself even before Crimson, still grieving from Pietro's death.

Natasha cared too much, she knew. Her mind was still telling her to distance herself from Wanda, from the little witch's experience that was sure to raise some more memories from the grave. But her heart broke every time she heard a strained cry from the little witch and that urged her to do everything in her power to help this struggling woman.

Scratch that, a girl. Wanda was still a girl, having only spent 20 years on Earth.

She sat next to Wanda, watching her chest rise and fall slowly, hoping that the surgery they had to do for her arm break would help the little witch heal, even if it was only a little bit. The girl looked so small surrounded by the beeping machines, almost swallowed by the sheer amount of white light in the hospital. Wanda's bedsheets looked like they were wrapping around her, holding her tight so that she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and Natasha almost had the urge carry Wanda out of the hospital, away from the machines and medicine and trauma that she had, to a place so remote neither her's nor Wanda's ghosts could catch up with them.

She almost acted on that urge, but focused instead on how Wanda looked. There was a white bandage around her head, covering some of her forehead. Her face itself had dozens of cuts on it, many once filled with dry blood until the nurses cleaned her up in what must have been Wanda's first bath in a very long time.

But she was so pale.

Natasha couldn't get over how pale she was, how her skin wasn't its normal tan hue, how her cheeks were devoid of any hint of color, with no indication of her past self, the one with rosy cheeks and bright eyes and tan skin.

Instead, she was a pale white color, an almost ghostly complexion.

Then, her eyes focused on the crude scribble on Wanda's shoulder.

_ Crimson. _

Another pang hit Natasha like a truck as she imagined what Wanda had to go through.

Natasha could see the bulges of the cast covering her entire right arm and her ankle fracture underneath the sheets, another reminder to her about the pain Wanda went through.

There was just so much pain.

\---

Steve watched Natasha from the window of the hospital room, wondering if she was okay. After the incident on the Quinjet, Natasha hadn't speaked to him, focusing purely on Wanda. 

It unsettled him, to say the least. Natasha was normally witty, or if not, at least wearing a smirk on her face.

Now, all she was wearing was a blank expression, not even that. There was almost no indication of Natasha even feeling anything, except for when her eyes would sweep over Wanda once again and her facade would crack just the slightest bit, showing the pain she felt.

Steve didn't know what to do with that. The Black Widow unsettled made him unsettled and uncomfortable, and he wasn't sure what to do, if anything.

Then there was Tony, who was screaming at the doctors to close down the floor Wanda was on and to make sure that all heads of ortho, nereo, and general surgery were on standby in case something was to happen to Wanda.

He knew that threatening those people was Tony's way of coping with what he believed he had done. The amount of guilt that Tony felt was probably unbearable, and coupled with his anxiety?

Steve knew that it was a miracle Tony was still standing.

Sam was probably wandering the halls, impatient and jumpy and waiting for Wanda to wake up, just like the rest of them. He didn't know Wanda as well as the others, but they had fought for the same side during the Accords argument, so that was enough for Sam to care.

The doctors had said the worst injury was Wanda's right arm, which had broken in three places. He was still amazed that Wanda was able to hold him in such a sturdy headlock even with her thrice-broken arm. The concussion wasn't severe but was enough for them to monitor. Plus there was a head gash, which Steve knew had turned Wanda's bandages red after they removed the scabs.

He didn't want to think about how Wanda had gotten all of those wounds.

\---

Natasha watched as Wanda stirred and sat up, lifting her chin from Wanda's bed. Her mind was telling her to run.

She ignored it.

The little witch slowly cracked open both eyes, then fully opened them as she attempted to sit up, a panicked expression evident on her face. Natasha immediately jumped up and prevented her from sitting up, for fear of bursting one of the many stitches she had on her stomach.

Wanda's eyes darted back and forth as her breath became quicker and shallower when she laid back down, and Natasha knew she was on the edge of a full-force panic attack.

"Wanda." Natasha said, tilting the witch's head toward her with one smooth motion of her hand on Wanda's chin. "You're safe. You're in a hospital."  _ I'm here, protecting you. _

The brunette's eyes started to focus on Natasha as her breathing slowed, and the redhead let out a sigh of relief. She watched as Wanda's eyes took in her surroundings, the bulges of the casts on her lower body, another cast covering her entire arm.

"Natasha." Wanda strangled out, her voice hoarse and nothing like it normally sounded, instead conveying pain and trauma and everything she went through.

"Hey," Natasha responded in a gentle voice, cupping the little witch's face softly with her hand.

"You're here."

"Yes." Natasha said, her heart breaking in the process. "Yes, I'm here."

She watched as Wanda fell back asleep, then quietly left the room and closed the door, dashing to the nearest bathroom as tears streamed down her face.

\---

_ "Hey." Natasha said, approaching Wanda one day after a group dinner. _

_ "Hi." Wanda replied, voice quiet. Today was one of her bad days, one of those days where all she could feel was the void that Pietro had left. Ever since Natasha had come over to her room a couple of days ago, Wanda had been getting better in terms of her grief; it was slowly becoming more manageable with the help from the redhead.  _

_ But sometimes she felt the soul-crushing void, and all she could think about it Pietro and how he was gone and how she was still here, feeling the loss. _

_ "You okay?" Natasha asked, voice soft. _

_ "I just miss him so much." Wanda replied, voice cracking near the end of the sentence. _

_ "I know." Natasha looked at the little witch, looked at how vulnerable and how sad she was, looked at her glassy eyes, the little droplets on her face, and all Natasha wanted to do was to take away the pain. Even though Wanda was the one that caused Natasha  _ herself _ pain, caused her to relive the Red Room and all the horribleness associated with the training program.  _

_ Her feelings for Wanda scared her. She wasn't supposed to feel attached, wasn’t supposed to want to do everything in her power to heal Wanda. She was supposed to be removed, emotionless, stoic. _

_ A weapon. _

_ Not a living, breathing, human, one who felt pangs of hurt stream through her body every time she heard Wanda cry out in her nightmares, or one who wanted to reach out to offer support the day after and somehow heal the little witch. _

_ Even when she wasn’t healed herself. _

\---

They were all standing in the waiting room, all too jumpy and nervous to sit down. Tony still paced around in his suit, Steve still in his suit and watching Natasha, Sam standing off to the side. Natasha, after coming out of the bathroom, had informed the nurse that Wanda had woken up and the doctor was checking Wanda out right now, making sure she was okay.

The doctor, surprisingly, came out unscathed, and Natasha let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She didn't want to see Wanda break down again, her mind forcing her to use powers she didn't want to, forcing her to be someone she wasn't.

"She will be fine." The doctor said, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. "The concussion isn't bad and her arm is healing nicely. Also, I need to talk to Ms. Maximoff’s emergency contact, Natasha Romanoff?"

The group all turned their eyes towards Natasha, the woman herself being unaware of this news.

“Oh, that’s me.” Natasha replied, following the doctor down a hallway. He looked somber when he turned to face the redhead, making Natasha a little uneasy.

“When Ms. Maximoff was x-rayed, we found multiple fractures and broken bones, as you already know.” The doctor said, taking a breath before continuing, looking Natasha in her eyes. “There was no internal bleeding, but we did find that there was a metal chip embedded in Ms. Maximoff’s ankle. It wasn’t causing Ms. Maximoff any harm, so we decided to not remove it since it was attached to a crucial part of her ankle.” Another pause.

“Additionally, we found that Ms. Maximoff’s fallopian tubes were removed.”

Natasha was struck silent, focusing more on the last sentence, ignoring everything else the doctor had said. “So… she’s sterile?” The redhead finally stuttered out, still in disbelief.

“Unfortunately, yes. That is what we found.” The doctor left soon after that, leaving Natasha still in the hallway, before taking a few hesitant steps backward as she crashed into the wall.

_ She was lying on the stretcher, handcuffed to the guardrails, still thrashing around as her breath quickened and her eyes darted back and forth and she became panicked. They were about to take her into surgery, part of the process of graduating from the Red Room program. _

_ Surgery to make her a real weapon, removing the last part of humanity she had left. _

She felt herself sinking against the wall, her hands on her forehead, her elbows on her knees as she sat down, shuddering on the floor.

_ The man put a mask onto her mouth, darkness slowly creeping into her vision, as the world faded into black. _

Natasha eventually forced herself to get back up so that she could see Wanda and make sure she was still alive, still a human being even though they removed that part of her that  _ made _ her a person and not a weapon with a brain.

She walked numbly, buzzing in her ears, towards Wanda’s room, hoping that no one would see how rattled she was as she stared at Wanda. 

_ It’s like Red Room all over again. _

"Tony." Natasha said, pulling her eyes away from watching the rise and fall of Wanda's chest.

"Hmm?" He replied, still pacing around, preoccupied.

"Any word on what this SWORD organization even is?" Natasha asked, a hint of wavering in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. 

"Oh." Tony said, stopping for a minute. "It seems to be another one of those evil spy organizations that wants to take over the world."

"It seems to be?" Natasha retorted, disbelief evident in her voice. "Or it is?"

"Tony, what did you even do with the people at the compound?" Steve asked, joining in.

"I, umm, called Interpol and Ross." Tony responded, brushing his hair with one of his hands.

"Ross? Seriously?" Steve responded. "You called the guy that put Wanda in that cell? With the straightjacket and shock collar?"

"I can't believe this." Natasha said, pacing around. "I thought we were over this, Tony! This whole thing with the US government. You're trusting those hacks to determine what happened to Wanda? What torture she went through? You have no idea what that place was, what it did to her. She was forced to kill, Tony. She was locked to her bed in the middle of the night, was whipped when she didn't follow orders."

"Nat-"

"She was  _ sterilized _ ! You know what I saw when I walked into that place? Red Room. It's a copy, Tony. Somehow, some evil fucker out there got wind of Red Room and that it produced this," Wanda said, motioning towards her body, "and decided it would be a great idea to recreate it."

"You're making this personal-"

"It  **is** personal, Tony! She has to rebound from this! There's no therapist in the fucking world that will take on her case, no SHIELD reprogramming that will bury her memories. That is the hardest thing about this, Tony! She, herself, has to come back from this. And all we can do is watch her suffer." 

Natasha stared at Tony for one more second before breaking away, leaving the rest of the room shocked into silence as she went back into Wanda's room, taking the chair near the bed. Seeing the Black Widow lose her composure wasn't normal for any of them.

The outburst only made Tony's anxiety worse and he excused himself to go to the bathroom, willing for his breathing to slow down and for the tightening in his chest to stop.

Only Steve and Sam were left in the waiting room, and they were left wondering how this mess had escalated into something none of them could control.

\---

Sam knocked on the door before walking in, making sure that Natasha knew that he was coming in. Approaching the Black Widow without warning was never a good idea, as he had found out after he had accidentally approached Natasha from behind while she was cutting up some fruit and had ended with a knife to his throat.

“You know Tony’s right, Natasha.” Sam said, sitting down opposite of the redhead on the other side of the bed.

“About what?” Natasha responded, voice stoic, eyes still on Wanda’s chest as it rose and fell.

“Handing SWORD over to Interpol and the US government. I don’t think any of us could be in the same room with any of those guys without killing them, especially you. We probably wouldn’t be the best at getting information out of them.” Sam replied.

Natasha cocked an eyebrow up at that, knowing that Sam was right. “Yeah, they’d probably be dead within 30 seconds if it was me.”

“You know, you aren’t the horrible person you think you are, Natasha. You still possess the ability to care, regardless of what Red Room or whoever did to you.”

Sam made sure to look Natasha dead in the eyes before continuing.

“You’re still human.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, just wanted to say a HUGE thank you to anyone who has left kudos, commented, or bookmarked this fic! Those actions make my day, trust me, and I honestly love any type of feedback (constructive criticism is appreciated!) so feel free to leave a comment!
> 
> Chapter 4 should be coming out in less than a week.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going off the marvel wiki for eye color and stuff (says Wanda's eyes are blue, and Natasha's green) but I've read different on other fanfics..? I'll just stick with the wiki on this one.
> 
> So normally I write in past tense but my brain decided to switch up on me and make me write some scenes in present tense and some in past tense. I did my best to change them back to past tense but if there are any errors that's my fault.
> 
> All errors are mine.

Wanda awoke to Natasha leaned over on her hospital bed, the redhead snoring a little as her head rested on Wanda’s covered legs. Her head is still throbbing, her arm still hurts, and there’s that ever-persistent little pain in her ankle.

The little witch still expected for this to all fade away, a cruel dream that her mind had come up with to lure her into a sense of security, still expected for a loud beep to wake her up and for Miss B to come around and uncuff her from the bed.

Part of her is still afraid to come out, for fear of being punished.

There’s nothing that she can do as she leans back into the starch-white pillows, letting out a small sigh as she wishes for a dreamless sleep to wash over her. She wanted to sleep for forever, wanted to be unconscious and blissfully unaware of the rows of cuts on her left arm, reminding her of the damage that she caused. There was no patching those dead bodies up, no rewinding time so that Wanda could be on the other side, the one where she could be safe.

Ignorance is bliss, they say, and Wanda has realized those words have never been truer.

She fell back asleep soon after, welcoming the blackness that took her under.

\---

There’s a knock on the door and Natasha is jolted awake, making sure Wanda is still alive and breathing before looking to see who it was.

“Hey.” Tony said, talking through the door. “Can I see her?”

Natasha half-heartedly lets him in, watching him take a seat at Wanda’s bedside. She was still pissed at him, sure, but she has to admit she’s never seen Tony like this, gentle and caring and not arrogant for what must be the first time in his life.

Tragedy does that to you.

“You know, I was thinking of you when I turned SWORD over to Interpol and SHIELD.” Tony said, voice gentle, not taking his eyes off Wanda’s sleeping figure. “I figured it might be better if you didn’t have to listen to them describe what went on at Crimson.”

Natasha was silent for a moment, thinking about Tony’s words. “I know. Um, thank you for that.”

“You’re right though. It is going to be a long path for Wanda.” Tony continued, finally turning towards Natasha. “You have no idea how much I want to make something that can take all of her memories away.”

“I do too. Want to make all of her pain go away.” Natasha said, looking at Wanda’s pale face once again. _So much it shouldn’t be humanly possible._

Tony’s phone suddenly chimed, and Natasha worried that it could wake Wanda, force the little witch to face reality. When she looked at Wanda’s face, however, there is no change in her peaceful state.

_Thank god for that._

“Okay, I got to run.” Tony said after looking at his phone for a quick second, face expressionless. “Um, I think Vision’s coming by soon, so don’t be surprised when you see him.” Tony paused to look Natasha square in the eye, putting a hand on her shoulder before continuing. “We will get justice for her eventually, Nat. Be sure of that, at least.”

Natasha gave him a slight nod as he left, watching him exit the room before sitting back down, watching Wanda once again.

\---  

The nurse came in for the second time today and motioned for Natasha to wake Wanda up so that they could feed her some food and give her some water.

Natasha hesitated for a second, not wanting to wake Wanda up from her peaceful slumber, but then thinks about Wanda’s steady rise and fall of her chest and how that could stop if they didn’t keep her nourished. She shook Wanda’s left wrist and watched as Wanda’s eyes flutter open, seeing the panic, the hurt in them before they settle on her eyes.

“Hey. It’s time to give you some food.” Natasha said, voice gentle, making sure Wanda knew that she was still here.

“‘Kay.” Wanda mumbled, accent thick, taking the nurse’s hand as she sat up.

Natasha watched as Wanda took little bites of the crappy hospital food, never really finishing one thing before moving onto another. After around ten minutes, the little witch leaned back, signaling she’s finished even with half of the food still on the tray, and Natasha wanted to make Wanda eat more but knows she probably shouldn’t force Wanda to do more than the brunette wants to do.

_She’s had enough of that already._

“Drink some water?” Natasha said as she slid a cup of water towards Wanda. The brunette took the cup and downed it slowly, and Natasha couldn’t help but look at Wanda’s throat as she watched the fluid go down.

“Let me sleep, please.” Wanda croaked out, and Natasha’s heart broke once again at how weak Wanda sounded, the vulnerability evident in the brunette’s voice, and she couldn’t help but want to kiss all of Wanda’s pain away.

“Okay. Okay, sure Wanda, you can sleep.” Natasha replied, resisting the impulse to grasp onto Wanda’s hand and to never let go.

\---

_There are a couple moments after she’s killed another man that she thinks of ending it all, lying face-up on the bed, covers still made, her still in the outfit, a motionless body lying on the floor near her._

_She’s even come close a couple of times._

_Her mind flashes back to those events, taking her through her pain over and over again in her dreams._

_Sometimes, she takes the dead man’s belt and wraps it around her neck (how ironic, killing herself with an item that belonged to someone she killed), tightening it more and more until her vision gets fuzzy around the edges, but she can’t continue because then the thought of Natasha pops into her head and she has to stop._

_Other times, she wills for her heart to stop, the red light swirling around her body as it infiltrates her, but she can’t go through with it because her powers simply won’t let her._

_Then there’s the wire that she normally uses on her left arm. She tried to slit her wrists with them one time, but her super-healing powers didn’t leave the cuts open long enough for her to bleed out._

_She’s started a series of cuts on her right arm, one for each time she’s tried to kill herself._

_There’s already a dozen shallow marks on her skin._

\---

Wanda jolted awake, mind still fresh of the penthouse, the bodies on the floor, the piece of red lingerie she was wearing. She took in her surroundings once again, surveying the room.

_Hospital, right. Not lingerie, uncomfortable itchy gown. Not Isabel, Wanda._

Natasha isn’t beside her, and that scared her even more. She wanted Natasha to be here with her because she doesn’t want to imagine going through this without the redhead, attempting to heal without those green eyes.

Simply put it, she doesn’t want to imagine a life without Natasha in it.

And instead of Natasha, Vision is there, standing at the foot of her bed, watching her with his all-knowing eyes.

“Hello.” Vision said. “Shall I tell Natasha you are awake?”

Wanda found the strength in herself to sit up, propping her body up with another pillow. She felt naked under Vision’s gaze, vulnerable and uncovered and weak.

_It’s Vision. Not another man in the penthouse._

“Oh.” Wanda said, clearing her throat before continuing. “Yeah, that would be great.”

“Alright, I shall do that then.” Vision said, about to exit the room before turning back to her. “It’s good to see that you’re okay.”

Wanda hesitated for a second before responding, mind still on Natasha. “Thank you.”

When the door opened again, Wanda fully expected for the redhead to come walking into the room, but instead it’s this random man in a white coat and blue scrubs, and all she can think about is the sound of a belt unzipping, the red lingerie that she’s in, and _fuck_ she’s in the penthouse, circling him, kissing him, feeling him grope her.

She’s going down that path again, the one where she’s preparing to add another cut to both her right and left arms.

\---

“Natasha, Wanda just awoke and she asked for you-” Vision was cut off by the sound of a crash from Wanda’s room, and there was no stopping Vision, Steve, and Natasha as they dashed towards the source of the sound, the redhead leading the way.

Inside, there was a stream of red light coming from Wanda's left hand, holding the doctor against the wall, medical supplies scattered around from the cart that had tipped over in the process.

"Oh, these guys are idiots." Natasha mumbled, as she watched the doctor struggle against the red light surrounding his torso and neck.

She hoped she wasn’t betraying how scared she felt for Wanda as her voice cracked at the end of the sentence (she had noticed the sheen of tears on Wanda’s face and really wanted to hide how she felt).

_Wanda watched as her latest victim lay underneath near, the red light swirling around his throat. She didn't want to kill him, didn't want to feel the grief of another life taken, but she knew it was hopeless._

_She could feel the wire that was tucked in her bra, the wire that made the cuts on her arm, the wire that was the only thing that had been with her all along (other than the thought of Natasha) and she was prepared to use it again, the tears streaming down her face as she knew today would be one of those days when she would make a cut on both of her arms._

_Belt? Magic? Holding her breath? (She hasn’t tried that one yet.)_

_Just when she was about to tighten the grip on the man’s throat, she somehow felt Natasha, felt her presence, felt those green eyes staring at her._

The penthouse suddenly faded back to a stark-white room with lots of machines and consistent beeping noises (quiet ones, not like the ones that normally woke her up in the morning) and it was like coming up for fresh air after holding her breath underwater for so long.

But then she saw Steve and Vision and Natasha standing there, the _doctor against the wall (god, she was so sorry)_ all staring at her, looking at her like she was a monster, like they were afraid of her and she felt herself being plunged underneath again.

They all had a right to be afraid of her, after all.

All of them except for Natasha. Somehow, Natasha wasn’t afraid.

_Maybe it’s because we have the same demons._

Wanda stopped the magic, lowering her left arm, the doctor collapsing on the floor with another loud crash. There was a sudden buzzing in her ears and she couldn't feel anything, not grief, not sadness, even with tears streaming down her face. She knew half of her was still Isabel Petrov, programmed to be a soldier of SWORD, her body and powers a weapon, and Isabel never felt anything, not joy, not sorrow because she was a weapon, after all, a person that wasn’t human.

There were streaks of tears running down her face as she laid back into her bed, silently sobbing and shutting her eyes as she heard the doctor scramble away and the rest of the Avengers leave.

But when she opened her eyes and looked back up, Natasha was still there.

Wanda took a second, attempting to compose herself before speaking. “Why are you still here?” Her voice is stained with tears, hoarse from crying, and Natasha knows it doesn’t get any worse than this, seeing this strong girl break apart from trauma, tears streaming down her beautiful face.

“I’m a monster.”

_I want to have you here, but I can’t because I don’t deserve your presence._

“No better than Ultron or any other villain you’ve faced off against. Stop spending your time with me, Natasha. Go save the world or something while you still can. I’m a mess that isn’t worth being cleaned up, especially by you.”

When Natasha didn’t back away, instead taking a step closer to the bed, Wanda breaks.

“Leave, Natasha!” Wanda screamed, voice cracking with the pain of the last 10 months, the trauma of being tortured and beaten and violated over and over again becoming evident. “Just GO!”

Suddenly, Wanda felt strong arms wrap around her as she sobbed and she’s holding onto Natasha for dear life, the events of the past 10 months running through her head on loop as she leaned her head on Natasha’s shoulder.

They made a sight to see, Natasha is sure, a broken woman being comforted by a woman who is barely healed herself.

\---

Natasha couldn’t trust herself around Wanda, couldn’t trust herself to not hurt Wanda mentally or physically. She wasn’t programmed to feel emotions like longing, lust, and especially not  _love_ (love? who said anything about feeling love?) because only weaklings felt those types of  _emotions_.

Emotions lead to the downfall of anyone and everyone who felt them, and that was especially why she was trained to  _not_ feel anything. Except that training failed, because she still felt emotions like love, like grief, and honestly the reason she’s so screwed up is  _because_ she really hasn’t learned  _how_ do deal with emotions.

Funny how that worked.

_Getting emotionally invested will get you killed, Natalia._

So instead of facing her feelings head-on, she hid them behind a carefully curated mask, one that made her seem confident in anything she did, one she put on every single day she got out of bed. She was always guarded, emotionally detached, and that served her just fine. And she built walls over the grief, the pain, the insecurity and kept them hidden from everyone else so that they couldn’t look in, couldn’t see who she really was.

She didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse, really.

But then Wanda had literally infiltrated her mind and gotten past those thick walls and had been tortured, held captive like Natasha was and that caused her heart to break out of its shell and her emotions to run wild, crumbling some of the walls, the brunette worming her way further and further into her unguarded heart.

Natasha felt vulnerable for the first time in her life, scared and small and insecure as her emotions were put on display in front of everyone.

_Your emotions will be the death of you someday, Natalia._

_\---_

_She was fighting Ultron’s minions, using her powers for something good (finally), sending out streams after streams of red light, killing robot after robot._

_And then, she felt something go_ snap _inside her, like an invisible string between her and Pietro was just cut, and she knew at that very moment that he was_ gone, _gone like her parents, gone like her hopes and dreams the day she saw the missile with Tony Stark’s name land near her home._

_She was screaming, sobbing as she let her grief rip through her and take control of her powers and she let out a massive hex blast, and all she could see was Pietro’s face, the face she had seen evolve through the years, the face that had stood by her through thick and thin, the face that was her only source of comfort when she was being tested on by HYDRA._

_The face that was lifeless now, killed by Ultron’s bullets._

_It was like half of her was ripped out of her body; the only person that she trusted was gone now, and she couldn’t do anything except for fight, fight against Ultron’s minions and avenge Pietro’s death._

_He was gone, just like that._

_Like a snap of the fingers._

\---

Tony slammed his phone down on his desk in the lab, looking but not seeing all of the equipment around him, his mind preoccupied on SHIELD and how fucking stupid they were sometimes (they wanted to “interview” Wanda as soon as possible? Hell no), scratch that, all of the time.

“Fuck you.” Tony muttered as he stood up and opened and closed some drawers, looking for some plans for a machine he had drawn up long ago but had never gotten around to creating.

_There._

He unrolled the crudely drawn sketches of a machine he had thought up after being told what Natasha had been through in Red Room (he had thought that if need be, they could sort through her memories, but then realized how stupid that was when he was told she had been “reprogrammed” specifically to _forget_ those memories.) but the machine had been scratched and the plans had been shoved into his drawer.

Until now.

He wasn’t going to stand by and let the government put Wanda through any sort pain again, physical or mental.

Especially mental.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahaaaaa what am i even doing anymore im just putting random scenes into random places...
> 
> So yeah there's almost no flow in this chapter sorry about that.
> 
> And again thanks for the support, honestly I never expected this many kudos/bookmarks/comments so thank you thank you thank you! You guys all make my day you have no idea. Feel free to comment, I definitely read all of them even if I don't always respond :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being so patient with me honestly I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. Believe me, this is not my muse dying, I've just had about no time to write this week b/c I've been super busy.
> 
> Feel like this chapter was more of a filler than anything.
> 
> All mistakes are mine, also I'm sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors..
> 
> Also anyone feel like writing fanfiction is like a form of therapy? I seem to pour a ton of feelings and angst into all these chapters and honestly I write so much its kinda scary.

“Up, Wanda. Come on, you can do it.” Natasha said, Wanda’s hand clutching her arm, her hand gripping onto Wanda’s as the brunette struggled to stand up. The nurse had said they needed to get Wanda up and moving if she wanted to get out of the hospital, and Natasha was hesitant to agree, since Wanda still looked so weak, so fragile.

So pale.

Wanda let out a frustrated groan as she fell back into the bed, and Natasha knew that the little witch was disappointed in herself because she couldn’t even stand up, she was so frail from hat Crimson had done to her.

_Mother fuckers. If I even get one of my hands on any of you, you will all be dead within 30 seconds._

“Why does this have to be so hard?” Wanda asked, her blue eyes looking at Natasha’s, as she dug her fingernails into Natasha’s arm and tried to stand up once again. This time, she did it and she was standing on her shaky legs, her body thin and swallowed by the hospital gown she was in.

Natasha let out a small smile at the sight and Wanda slowly let go of her arm, taking a few hesitant, wobbly steps around the room before plopping back down on the bed with a little sigh.

“You’re healing, Wanda. Of course it’s going to be hard.” Natasha said, crouching down to Wanda’s eye level, taking the little witches two hands and squeezing them tight. “It’s going to take time, like any other injury.”

Wanda looked at her square in the eyes and Natasha felt like the brunette could see into her soul, and she felt vulnerable, exposed as a slight shiver ran down her spine, and some of her walls came crashing down because it was _Wanda, Wanda_ who was sitting in front of her with a single tear rolling down her face, and Natasha just wanted to kiss it all away, the pain, the trauma because she couldn’t stand to see Wanda hurt like this.

During those 10 months when Wanda was missing, Natasha had isolated herself from everyone, spending her time either in her bedroom or in the gym, punching the hell out of the black bag. She only interacted with the others when they went out searching for the little witch, keeping conversations to a minimum because she really didn’t feel like _herself_ without Wanda there, and even her confident mask had fallen during that time period because she was so stressed.

_She could’ve been lying dead in a ditch somewhere, and you wouldn’t have even known._

_Lying dead like the people you’ve killed._

_Lying dead because you failed to protect her._

\---

_Wanda was sitting at breakfast, talking with Vision, looking radiant after a morning training session and shower afterward._

_Natasha stood to the side, observing the brunette as she talked (this wasn’t stalker-ish at all, it was just the redhead caring for Wanda’s wellbeing. Totally.)_

_Then Wanda smiled._

_And Natasha’s jaw internally dropped._

_She had no idea how it was possible for a human being to look so perfect while doing something so mundane such as eating waffles, nevertheless looking so perfect in general. Wanda’s hair was just dry enough to be a little wavy, her face clear of makeup other than her ruby-red lips, her large eyes showing off their beautiful blue color._

_And when Wanda smiled, it seemed like the world melted away and Natasha could forget for one second that the brunette was an Avenger and dedicated herself to saving the world every day, because Wanda looked so innocent and youthful and somehow full of_ joy _as her eyes crinkling just a little bit and her face lit up and Natasha felt like she could be_ normal _._

 _Wanda had been through so much, they_ both _had been through so much, yet when Wanda smiled Natasha could believe for one second that they lead ordinary lives that didn’t include saving the world and dead twins and manipulating people._

_She turned around to a grinning Steve as he mimicked the sound of a whip, walking into the kitchen and joining the conversation, pulling up a chair next to Wanda as he took some of her waffles._

_Sometimes she wished she could have the confidence to do that, steal Wanda’s food and watch her smile._

_Steve was right. She was so goddamn whipped._

\---

The days passed by as Wanda healed in the hospital, spending less and less time in bed and more and more time roaming the hallways, leaning on a crutch for support, Natasha always next to her as they made laps around the hospital floor.

Often, Wanda would wake up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat, images of Crimson still fresh in her mind, the people she killed lying around her, the hundreds of bodies piling up, all faceless because any life they had before had been wiped out by Isabel.

They were all dead, lifeless.

Natasha would always be there when she woke up, comforting her no matter how early in the morning it was, sitting by her side as she wrapped her arms around Wanda’s trembling body and Natasha could feel the brunette’s ribcage, she was so thin, and it hurt her so much to see Wanda like this, sobbing in a hospital bed, swallowed by a gown in a stark-white room.

The brunette was in so much _pain_ and Natasha was in so much pain because of it.

“I’ll stay here,” Natasha whispered one night, grasping onto Wanda’s limp hand after the brunette had fallen asleep again, “by your side-”

_Even if it hurts me in the process._

_Even if I have to relive the worst moments of my life._

_Even if my mind is telling me to run._

“-until my bones turn to dust.”

\---

“Ready?” Natasha asked the brunette, who was sitting on the hospital bed, crutches in hand.

Wanda was finally wearing normal, _human,_ clothes again, and Natasha still couldn’t get over how thin she looked, how fragile and frail and _broken_ she seemed. Many of the clothes Steve had brought from Wanda’s closet back at the facility didn’t fit the brunette anymore (they were too big) and she currently looked like she was being swallowed in the yoga pants and the Avengers t-shirt she was wearing.

And when Natasha had helped Wanda take the hospital gown off, she couldn’t help staring at the horrible scars on Wanda’s back, the large cut on her abdomen, or the hundreds of other small scratches all over the brunette’s body.

Then there were the hundreds of tiny cuts on Wanda’s arm that were no doubt self-inflicted, but Natasha didn’t want to ask about them yet.

The redhead had helped Wanda put her bra, shirt, and pants on, supporting Wanda because her right arm was still in a sling (even with her super-healing three breaks took a larger amount of time to heal).

Now, Wanda was sitting on the edge of the bed, face expressionless as she answered Natasha’s question with a slightly defeated tone.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Natasha took the prescription for Wanda’s painkillers that she had been given, along with instructions, by a nurse when Wanda was asleep. Hopefully, the brunette wouldn’t need to take them, since she had been off pain meds for a couple of days already.

The redhead tore the slips of paper up anyway and tossed them in the trash bin outside the hospital (really she should’ve shredded them, but that would do) and helped Wanda get into the car, the brunette looking a little _joyful_ as Natasha started the car and pulled into incoming traffic.

Wanda was silent the entire time, staring out the window and looking at the buildings pass by as Natasha drove.

_There’s a world out there._

She hadn’t seen the outside world for so long, ever since being locked up in the Raft. Even when she was healing in the hospital, they had put her on a floor where there were no windows for fear of Wanda being exposed to the media, who was no doubt wondering where Wanda was now.

_It’s glorious._

She watched as the trees flew by, the scattered dashes of green going past her window. The sky was clear, so _blue,_ and she missed it.

The freedom of being in the outside world.

\---

They arrived at the Avengers compound 20 minutes later, Wanda not making a move to get out of the car as she stared at the large building.

The last time she had been here, she had been kept prisoner in her own house, forced to stay in the compound because Tony had thought she was a danger to herself and to others around her. Clint had helped her escape, which she went along with because she didn’t want to be kept prisoner anymore, with a good portion of her life being held in HYDRA’s base.

If she had known that escaping one prison would only lead to so many more, she wouldn’t have left.

Wouldn’t have escaped the safe haven that was the compound, even if she was itching to get out.

Anything was better than the Raft and SWORD’s facility after it, really.

She would’ve been spared so much trauma, so much killing, so much torture, and just about everything else that had come after her imprisonment at Crimson.

“Do you want to go in?” Natasha asked Wanda, jerking the brunette out of her haze.

Wanda coughed a little before speaking. “Sure.”

Natasha got out of the car, closing the door with a soft thump and opening the trunk to get Wanda's crutch and other bags. The brunette slowly opened the door with her left arm and crawled out with help from Natasha, who handed her the crutch after she got herself out of the car, arm still in a sling and ankle in a cast.

As Wanda clutched onto Natasha’s arm, she started hobbling slowly, walking on the smooth concrete that was the floor of the garage, finally reaching the door after a couple of minutes. They reached the elevator, and Wanda felt herself jump a little when she heard FRIDAY’s voice say “Good afternoon, Ms. Maximoff and Ms. Romanoff, where would you like to go?”

Natasha answered for her. “Avengers facilities, please.”

The low hum of the elevator filled the silence and the two women stood next to each other awkwardly, Wanda not letting go of Natasha's arm quite yet, instead tightening her grip on the arm as the floor numbers increased.

Natasha looked down to see Wanda’s fingernails digging into her arm, and the brunette looked absolutely terrified, her blue eyes wide and jaw clenched as they went up.

“You okay?” Natasha asked.

Wanda didn’t reply, instead Natasha saw her jaw clench tighter, her face become more rigid, and the brunette was still staring straight ahead, eyes wide open. Her silence really answered Natasha’s question for her.

Wanda probably wasn’t okay.

So Natasha dropped the subject, turning away from the brunette and facing the elevator door (she was really worried, but she didn’t want to show it, they were in the Avengers building after all), doing her best to ignore the fingers clutching onto her arm or the expression that Wanda was wearing.

(It wasn’t working, but she ignored her heart tugs anyway).

FRIDAY’s voice telling them they were here made Wanda jump a little, as she took some hesitant wobbles forward to her room. As Wanda cracked open her bedroom door and nudged it open, she walked into the room, taking in the space.

It had been so _long_ since she had slept in _her_ bed, lived in her own space, done _anything_ with some resemblance of privacy _._ The room itself looked like it was frozen in time, her guitar gathering dust in the corner, the photo of Pietro on her nightstand with a sheen of dust over it, and all of it looked so _innocent._

The cork board with some photos of her and the Avengers, some random mementos from her childhood all sitting there, showing pre-Crimson Wanda, showing her previous self, the one who had the capacity to feel happiness and positive feelings in general.

That person had died when she had gone to training for seduction for the first time.

Wanda suddenly turned to Natasha, her face expressionless.

“Could I get a new room?”   

\---

Wanda stepped into the room, the walls painted a muted blue-grey, a simple bed and nightstands furnishing it, and she knew at an instant that this was going to be _her_ room from now on.

Post-Crimson Wanda’s room.

And the best part was that there were so many windows, windows that she had never had, and she could see the outside, see the green of the trees and the blue of the sky and not grey concrete walls.

She almost felt free when she looked out those windows.

But then there was that ever-consistent pain in her ankle where the chip was embedded, and she knew she wasn’t free, not yet.

“This one?” Natasha asked and Wanda turned to her and nodded, as the redhead set down her bags onto the bed, letting Wanda walk around on her own. She watched as the brunette touched the glass wall and the little witch looked so at peace as she stared out, looking at the beautiful view.

(Wanda was prettier than the view, but Natasha didn’t want to admit that)

“I’ll tell Tony you’re living here now, we’ll get you some clothes from your old room. Anything else?” Natasha asked as she stood behind Wanda, giving her room.

“Um, do you think we could replace my rings?” Wanda asked as she stared down at her fingers, devoid of anything on them. She kind of hated that.

“Sure.” Natasha responded, as she turned around to exit.

“Don’t leave.” Wanda suddenly said, turning around slowly and staring into Natasha’s eyes. “Please.”

“Okay.” Natasha said, as she slowly approached the brunette. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

\---

Tony was working in the lab, drilling metal plates together, soldering gun hissing as he soldered wires into place, leaned over his creation with the propane torch in his hand as he melted some metal pipes together, holed off from the rest of the world.

Sparks flew as he sawed, built, created, innovated.

This is how Tony _cared,_ how he made up for his mistakes, by creating and inventing technology that could lessen pain, avenge deaths, help others.

He wasn’t the greatest at expressing emotions, after all, and this is what came easiest to him, leaning over a machine, drill in hand, or hunching his back as he used tweezers to place the microchips into the metal frame.

Tony could innovate, and if he could even lessen the pain he caused Wanda by even a little, it would be worth all the hours spent in the lab, avoiding everyone else.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there was actually a hint of fluff in this chapter woahhhhh and tony's up to some mysterious shit.
> 
> But really, thank you guys so so so much I know I've said this a lot already, but really thank you for all of the support on this! I never expected it, and really thank you for 1100+ hits and almost 90 kudos! This is by far the most support I've ever gotten on any of my fics, so thank you thank you thank you thank you!
> 
> Feel free to comment, it makes my day when you do :)
> 
> Updated 5/28/18 because of a spelling error.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me (to muse): hey maybe you should write some more wanda/nat, you know that's what the story is about-  
> Muse: no i dont want to.  
> Muse: ill write about tonee instead  
> Me: okay okay fine ill work it into the plot you suck you know  
> Muse: yup fuck you.
> 
> Also I read through the whole fic for like the first time in a while and WOW my writing was really crappy back then even though it was like not even a month ago..? So either my writing still sucks now and I'm just blind to it or I've actually somehow improved? (wow what a concept)
> 
> ill stop ranting now and let you read the chapter.

_ Wanda stood in a brightly lit room with bare concrete walls, a target swinging back and forth in the middle of the room. Mr. T stood behind her as she walked around, watching the target swing like a pendulum, back and forth. _

_ He was dressed in a dark red skintight suit this time, his dirty blonde hair its normal style, wild and unkempt. _

_ “Isabel. Point. Shoot.” _

_ Wanda was holding a gun in her hands, knuckles white because she was gripping it so hard. It felt foreign in her hands, wrong in every way, shape, and form. Nevertheless, she pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting the outermost ring of the target. _

_ “Again.” _

_ This time, the bullet hit the wall, wide of the target, ricocheting to the other side of the room, narrowly missing Wanda and Mr. T by a couple of inches. _

_ “Again, Isabel.” _

_ She fired it again, the bullet leaving the chamber of the gun with a loud  _ pop,  _ this time hitting the target in the middle, only a little off center. _

_ “Good. Again.” _

_ They went on like this for what could be hours, days, minutes, Wanda didn’t really care. All she heard was “Point, shoot.” repeating like a mantra in her head and she hit the moving target every single time, again and again, feeling herself go numb at the sound of the gun in her ears. _

_ She never liked weapons in the first place. _

_ Yet, as she pulled the trigger over and over again, she felt herself getting used to the deadly weapon in her hand. _

Wanda awoke with a start, dripping in cold sweat, head pounding with a hangover as the sound of gunshots played over and over again in her mind, feeling the annoyance that was the chip still in her ankle. She could still see the target swinging back and forth, see Mr. T’s face as she reloaded the gun, feel the familiar weapon in her hands.

She had drunk too much last night (after Natasha had gone back to her room, of course) in order to stave off thinking about Crimson, about SWORD, about the torture she faced, and now her head was paying the price. 

She looked over at the digital clock on her nightstand,  _ 3:47,  _ and tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling before remembering that Miss B wasn’t going to come over and uncuff her, that she wasn’t wearing handcuffs and a shock collar at all and that she could move freely around the room. Wanda slowly crawled out from under the comforter and plodded over to the windows, wearing underwear and a large t-shirt as she stared out into the night, looking at the bright moon with some of the light reflecting slightly on her face.

She wanted Pietro to be here so badly, wanted him to watch the moon with her.

The frame with the photo of him on her nightstand glistened slightly in the moonlight when she turned to look at him, his face in the photo as he dashed around Sokovia. She had found the photo online somewhere, a news source had taken a photo of him and published it and she had printed it out because she had no photos of him for some reason.

And that was the only physical item that reminded her of him, the rest all stored inside her mind as memories (some happy, some not) and she wished that she had  _ more,  _ more mementos and memories that reminded her of him.

The rings that were on her fingers  _ now _ weren’t even the ones from Sokovia, the ones that Pietro had stolen for her, they were replicas Tony had gotten for her.

She continued to look out into the night, staring into the sky, the clouds now partially blocking the moonlight from streaming into her room and the glisten in the picture frame disappearing, the light hidden from the clouds as the picture faded back into the dark room.

\---

“You’re telling me that you invade the compound, and find everyone  _ but _ the two masterminds behind this SWORD thing?” Tony asked (screamed, really) as he paced around in the lab.

_ “Well, we got one of the higher ranking authorities there,” _ Maria Hill’s voice crackled over the speakerphone.

“And?”

_ “I can’t tell you a lot Tony,” _ Maria said and Tony heard a sigh before she continued,  _ “but she’s one of the people that ran some of the daily operations with the trainees.” _

“Dammit, I need answers, Maria!” Tony screamed, as he ran his hand through his hair and started pacing faster around the lab. “What can you tell me about SWORD, then? Is this another run-of-the-mill evil organization?”

Maria was silent for a moment before responding.  _ “They were training teens in their facility, Crimson.” _

“Training for what?”

_ “They wanted spies and super-soldiers like Romanoff, apparently. Ones who could fight on the front lines but also infiltrate and assassinate-” _

“-because no one suspects a teen.” Tony finished, as he slumped down on a random chair. “What did Wanda have to go through?” He asked, his voice quieter, more serious this time.

_ “We aren’t exactly sure- hear me out here, Tony, which is why, like I asked before, we need to get Wanda down here and interview her as soon as possible.” _

“You want to make her relive Crimson all over again? You saw the report, Maria. Broken bones, a ton of cuts and bruises, a concussion, the works.” Tony said, more agitated but also concerned.

_ “But we have no idea what really went on in there. All the other kids we picked up are either too traumatized to speak or lying unconscious in the hospital.” _ Maria said, her voice crackling over the phone.  _ “Unless you have another way, we need to interview Wanda as soon as possible. She’s our only hope.” _

Tony looked over at the machine he had been slaving over for the last couple of weeks.

“Well, I think I have another way.”

\---

“Dammit,” Natasha muttered under her breath as she threw her phone down on her bed, disconnecting the line and grabbing her suit from her closet.

“Did you get called too?” Steve asked through the open doorway, as he walked into Natasha’s bedroom, carrying a bag which was already packed.

“Yeah,” Natasha responded, grabbing a bag and stuffing some random clothes into it. “Talk about an inconvenient time. Do you know who else is going?”

“I think Sam and Bucky are too,” Steve responded. “What about Wanda?”

“That’s why I’m kind of upset right now, Steve,” Natasha said, as she hooked the bag over her shoulder and grabbed some weapons from her drawer, letting out a large sigh. “I need to go talk to her. And Tony and Vision. They need to keep an eye on her.”

Steve let the redhead pass as she marched out of the room, hearing her mutter “stupid missions why the fuck can’t this world save itself honestly,” as she walked over to the closed bedroom door on the other side of the hallway. He watched as she knocked once, twice, and saw the door crack open just the tiniest bit before opening a bit wider to let Natasha in.

The redhead walked out of the room a couple minutes later and Steve saw Wanda leaning slightly against the doorway as the brunette watched Natasha leave, her face stoic as the redhead walked down the hall and got into the elevator. Steve jogged over to get on the elevator, following Natasha.  

There was an emotion on both of their faces that Steve hadn’t seen before on the two Avengers (especially Natasha) as the steel doors closed, and FRIDAY’s voice echoed into the closed space.

An expression almost of.. hurt. Longing. Desperation.

Steve cleared his throat before he spoke, breaking the silence. “Bucky and Sam are already waiting on the Quinjet.” 

He watched as Natasha’s mask slipped back on, her expression becoming more Natasha-like, more hardened, more emotionless, as the elevator doors opened to the rooftop where the jet was waiting for them.

“Come on. Let’s go.” 

\--- 

She was drowning, falling down further and further, deeper and deeper and nothing seemed to be able to pull her back to the surface, not the bottles and bottles of alcohol sitting in her room, not the pitying looks from her fellow Avengers, not anything.

Except for Natasha.

Too bad she was on a mission right now, too preoccupied with saving the world to save  _ her  _ from falling into the rabbit hole.

And really, she felt like she was too far gone, too lost to be found and saved. Not really worth anyone’s time, much less someone like  _ Natasha. _

_ She has better things to do. _

So Wanda took another swig of vodka because she needed to forget, forget about Crimson, forget about the feeling of someone pushing inside of her, forget about the jolts of electricity running through her, forget about the rows and rows of cuts on her left and right arms, forget the feeling of the handcuffs on her wrists.

She just wanted to forget everything, really. 

Ruin herself even more because she’s so lost, numb the pain in her ankle from that ever-present chip, sink deeper and deeper because she doesn’t  _ want _ to  _ feel  _ anything.

_ Cheers,  _ Wanda thought as she cracked open another bottle and held it up to an imaginary cup.

_ To feeling nothing and everything at the same time. _

\---

_ Natasha was like freakin’ lesbian catnip. Everything about her screamed dominance, from the way she dressed in tight black leather to the way she kicked ass in every fight. Then there was her short, red hair, destined to make her alluring to everyone. _

_ It was no wonder Wanda felt herself falling harder and harder for her every single day. _

_ Even if the woman herself was desperately trying to avoid her, never making eye contact, never staying in the same room as the little witch for more than a minute. _

_ The one time that they had made eye contact for more than a second resulted in the tension in the room increasing ten-fold, green eyes meeting blue with neither of them willing to pull away. Wanda felt like Natasha was gazing into her soul, chills run down her spine as she gazed into those green eyes. _

_ She felt like she could do anything at that very moment. _

_ \---  _

Wanda heard a knock on her bedroom door, one time, two times, then Vision’s voice.

“Can I come in?” 

“Sure,” Wanda said quietly, slurring her words a little, her face red with drunkenness as she sat on the edge of her mattress wearing a large t-shirt and shorts, staring out into the grey sky. 

She just wanted to  _ forget _ , really, and was that so bad?

The red-skinned man walked into Wanda’s bedroom, giving it a dash of color as he awkwardly stood in front of the brunette. “I was asked to check in on you. Are you alright?” Vision asked.

Wanda didn’t answer, instead taking another swig of the bottle of vodka and turning her attention back to the trees outside, her face somber and stoic once again.  _ Am I alright? No. As far as you can get from alright, actually. _

“Wanda, I cannot leave until you give me an answer,” Vision said.

There were a couple of moments of silence before Wanda decided to answer, her words slightly slurred, voice quiet and hoarse. “I’m fine.”

“You know, I have been programmed to understand human emotion, Wanda.” Vision said, walking (or floating) a little closer to her. “I don’t believe you are ‘fine.’ From what I can see, you are self-destructing by drinking too much alcohol.”

“I’m  _ fine, _ ” Wanda said again, this time a little louder, words a little more slurred. “Just go, Vision.”

The red-skinned man turned away from the brunette, stopping after the doorway before looking back at her. “I must advise you, this is not the healthiest wa-“

The bedroom door slammed in his face, heavily, an audible thud as the red light surrounding it faded away.

Wanda leaned back on her bed with an audible sigh, hand still gripping the neck of the bottle as her head touched the soft mattress. She stared up at the ceiling, feeling nothing, feeling everything, thinking about Isabel and SWORD.

A part of her had been stolen by Crimson, chipped away slowly during those ten months as it morphed into another person, a  _ weapon. _

And she just didn’t know who she was anymore.

—-

“Vision!” Tony called out, lifting his welding goggles off his head and setting them down on the lab table. The red-skinned man was just floating outside of the lab entrance, probably waiting for Tony to call him in.

Tony rearranged some gear on the lab desk before looking up to see Vision looming over him. “Yes, Mr. Stark?” 

“How’s Wanda?” He asked, shuffling through the blueprints of the machine he was making, taking a second to look at each one.

“She says she’s fine, however-”

“Okay, great. Here, I need you for something.” Tony said as he dragged the AI over to a what seemed to be a rectangular frame. On closer inspection, Vision noticed that there were tiny little sensors close to the top of the metal frame, little holes poked almost everywhere. “So, that mind stone of yours- it powers you, yes?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Mr. Stark. You do realize, you didn’t let me finish earl-”

“Do you think that we could potentially  _ harvest _ some of that power and use it for this thing,” Tony patted the metal frame, “right here?”

“I suppose so. But how do you reckon on doing that?”

Vision watched as Tony rummaged around some drawers, opening and shutting them as he muttered “I swear I had it somewhere” until he finally settled on one device.

“So, I think if we just connect one end  _ here,”  _ he plugged in the device into a hole on the machine, “and another end here-”

“I believe you just brought a hammer down on my head.” 

“What?”

“Isn’t that what humans say when your head is in pain?”

“Sure- wow.” Tony looked up and saw the stone in Vision’s forehead glowing, not like a dim glow, instead like a flashlight-shone-in-your-eyes type of brightness. He looked over to the metal frame and saw that it was powered up. “Oh- let’s get this device off the Stone. The machine just needed a bit of a jump-kick.”

Tony wiggled the tube off the stone before dropping it onto the floor, as he and Vision watched the machine come to life.

“I’m calling it the LUMP.”

Vision looked at Tony with an as confused expression as he could muster.

“Luminous Underrated Memory Projector.”

The machine had a net, a mesh made of pure yellow light that spanned across the metal frame, along with a semi-transparent cube of light floating above it. 

“I’m assuming it projects memories?” Vision asked, staring at the machine in what could be considered awe.

“Yep.”

A beat.

“I’m gonna give it a try, make sure it doesn’t fry my brain.”

“I think that would be a little counteractive-”

“When I’m in there, say Howard Stark, then New York, then wake up. See what happens.”

Tony climbed into the machine, laid down on the net of light, and closed his eyes as the cube above him started changing, turning into a ball of gold, with dark spots occasionally darting in and out, some of the ball covered in a somber blue light. 

“Howard Stark.”

Then, slowly, Vision watched as the ball of light morphed into a bedroom, presumably Tony’s, the walls covered with blueprints acting as posters, random wires poking out of a desk. A young Tony walked into the bedroom, his dad following him as they argued and Vision could hear every word that was exchanged.

_ “No, Tony, you can’t go to vacation in Italy over the summer! I have multiple internships lined up-“ _

_ “It’s my life, I should be able to make my own decisions!” _

_ “But when I’m paying for everything, I get to make the decisions! This is about responsibility, Tony. I am trying to do what is best for you.” _

“New York.”

The bedroom changed again, everything fading away and turning into New York City, and Vision watched as a giant black hole opened up in the sky and these creatures came pouring out of it, being shot down by arrows, Thor striking the aliens with bolts of lightning, Iron man flying around with multiple creatures chasing him, crashing into skyscrapers as he turned.

Then, Tony was flying across the Hudson, catching up to a missile and guiding it through the hole in the sky, crashing it into some ship in outer space, falling down, down, down as he crashed back into Earth.

Abruptly, the scene turned back into the gold ball of light it was before and Vision realized that this is what Tony’s mind,  _ soul  _ looked like in physical form. 

“Wake up.”

Then, it disappeared as Tony opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Mind’s still intact, at least.” He said as he crawled out of the metal frame, his legs wobbly as he walked over to Vision. “What did you see? Judging from your expression,” he motioned towards Vision’s awed expression, “you must’ve seen something.”

“I said the words, and then a memory showed something related to them.”

“Great.” 

Tony walked away, sitting down at his desk and pulling up the video of him inside the LUMP, rubbing his chin, his elbow rested on the desk as he watched.

“You can go, by the way.”

And with that, Vision left the lab, leaving Tony to watch as he climbed up the wormhole in the middle of New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS is more of a filler-in than anything honestly I think this chapter sucks so much, it's important to the plot, but ughh there's no ScarletWidow like AT ALL (im writing about tonee instead? wtf is wrong with me?) and I'm a bit pissed at myself right now. 
> 
> So.. mytical invention that I sorta made up.. is there any science behind it? No. Does this violate any laws of nature? Probably. Am I just going with it anyway? Yes.
> 
> Also how tf do you spell Nat's last name? Seriously AO3 and Wikia are saying different things and I'm super confused.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading/commenting/kudos! Seriously I've never gotten this much support on a fic :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure I'm sticking by what's canon in terms of SHIELD and stuff (like I read on the Wikia that it's still alive and well, with Maria working for the Avengers now) so I made Maria kind of like a middleman between the two you'll see what I mean in the chapter.  
> But basically I'm saying that SHIELD is still a thing, and Maria works for them (ish).
> 
> If there are any other questions about plot holes in this chapter (which there are like a crap ton) feel free to comment and ask!  
> Or just comment in general, I guess (wink wink).  
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also just a warning this chapter SUCKS. Like it's really bad. Like Thor: The Dark World bad (not hating on the dark world or anything but it wasn't as good as it could've been..)

“Wanda?” Tony asked as he knocked on the brunette’s bedroom door. “Um- could I talk to you for a sec?” He ran his hand through his hair as he waited for Wanda to answer the door. It cracked open after a couple of seconds, revealing a disheveled Wanda, her eyes and face red, her hair a mess, her clothes wrinkled.

_ She’s drunk _ , Tony realized, as he gave a little awkward wave at the brunette, taking a step inside the bedroom. It was drastically different than her old bedroom, the one that looked like it could house a normal teen, while this one was removed, indifferent,  _ cold _ .

It just reminded Tony that he had absolutely no idea what she was going through. 

So who was he to judge if there were empty bottles of vodka on the floor?

“So SHIELD’s handling the whole SWORD thing,” he didn’t notice the flicker of hurt across Wanda’s face as he said the organization’s name _ ,  _ “and they need to interview someone to get some more information on, um,” he rubbed his hand through his hair, “what happened at Crimson.”

Wanda opened her mouth to protest, but Tony cut her off.

“I know. You don’t want to be interviewed, and I don’t want you to be interviewed either.” Tony took a deep breath before he continued. “So I made this machine that projects memories- it makes more sense when you see it -and I ran it by SHIELD, sent them some videos, had Hill over, the works, and they said that it would be okay to use that instead.”

The brunette looked at Tony dubiously as he continued, “Come down and see it? Oh and if you don’t want to do this again I suggest to stop with the drinking, at least until SHIELD’s done, okay?”

Tony looked back and saw Wanda give him a little nod as she followed him out of her bedroom, closing the door gently behind her.

She hadn’t been outside her room for a long time now, and it felt surreal as she walked through the hallways of what she was supposed to call  _ home,  _ the home that she never had. And the hangover from last night wasn’t helping one bit, her mind fuzzy as she stepped into the elevator with Tony. It landed on the lowest floor with FRIDAY’s voice interrupting her thoughts, and she stepped off the elevator, taking in Tony’s lab.    

She hadn’t ever been down here, even before the Accords, SWORD, Crimson.

It was organized chaos, to say the least, tools spread out everywhere, random scraps lying around on the desks, a blown-up object or two that still hadn’t been thrown out yet lying on the floor.

Tony lead her over to the back of the lab, and Wanda’s breath hitched as she saw the cube of light first, then the metal frame and the golden net below it.

“It’s uh, called the LUMP,” he watched as Wanda raised an eyebrow, “Luminous Underrated Memory Projector. I should probably work on the acronym.. anyway, it projects your memories.”

Wanda raised her other eyebrow. “Which,” she cleared her throat, her voice hoarse from underuse as she continued quietly, “which ones?”

“Well obviously SHIELD is looking for Crimson-related memories. And, um, don’t worry. You’re unconscious when all this is happening. We say some words, then your brain shows a memory related to that. There’s a video if you want to see.”

Wanda nodded as Tony walked over to his desktop, clicking the mouse. She watched as a video popped up on the side of the room, watched as Tony slipped into the LUMP, his eyes closing as the cube of light morphed into a golden ball.

“This- this is your mind?” Wanda asked as she watched the golden ball morph, constantly changing shape on the video.

It was  _ beautiful,  _ the ball of light with different shades of gold, occasional dark spots darting in and out, and Wanda found herself entranced as she watched it change.

“Yup,” Tony replied, watching the video along with the little witch. The ball of light turned into the first memory Vision had called upon, and Tony watched as it morphed again after a couple of minutes, showing him flying up the wormhole in New York.

He ignored his chest tightening at the sight of the black hole in the sky, and turned back towards Wanda as the video ended.

“You are sleeping while this happens?” Wanda asked, and Tony nodded, walking over to the device.

“Totally, completely, passed out. When I woke up, I had no memory of what I, or I guess my subconscious, showed in the LUMP.” 

Wanda bit her lower lip slightly as she looked at the machine, the steel frame and cube of light and everything else. The prospect of it seemed intimidating, baring her mind and soul for everyone to see (even if was only about Crimson), people watching her memories, the ones she fought so hard to keep  _ out  _ of her mind.

But it was that or being interviewed (interrogated) for information, pouring out all the trauma and pain of what she went through, having to relive the memories as she gave them every single little painful detail

“I’ll do it.”

\---

Tony watched as Wanda hesitantly crawled into the machine and laid down on a net made of light, her head pressed firmly against the top of the machine where it was supposed to go. Suddenly, Wanda’s mind,  _ soul,  _ came to fruition. It wasn’t really a 3D model like he had seen in the video, it was more like a living, breathing thing, constantly changing and wrangling against itself.

He cringed at how tortured it looked.

It was a scarlet red ball of light, constantly changing, some black swirling around and poking in and out. Occasionally, there was a flash of gold, maybe a moment of happiness or innocence, but it would disappear as quickly as it came, swallowed by a darker red, almost like a maroon that was contrasting with the rest of the mind.

He had never seen something so fascinating in his life.   

Maria Hill stood off to the side, arms crossed as she watched the hologram. “Is Wanda ready?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Tony replied, and watched as Hill unlocked her tablet, probably pulling up a list of words SHIELD had sent for her to say.

After the events with HYDRA and SHIELD, the organization had done some restructuring and vetting. The division started running again, attempting to gain some credibility within the security community.

(Tony still didn’t trust them, but they could get answers. And answers were what he really  _ really  _ needed at the moment.)

So Maria Hill acted as a middleman between the two organizations, and that was why she was standing in Tony’s lab, watching Wanda’s mind contort within itself.

“Okay then. Let’s begin.” 

\---

The sound of a gun greeted Natasha as she dashed into the room, still dusty from the mission, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of her face and nothing other than cuts and bruises on her body. 

Hill met her eyes, giving her a silent nod before turning her attention back to the hologram.

_ Pop pop. _

The sound coursed through her body, her eyes wide open as she watched Wanda shoot the weapon, one in each hand, pulling the trigger multiple times before reloading, then shooting again over and over, hitting the target square in the center.

There was a man right behind Wanda, stalking behind her, hands behind his back as he paced back and forth, watching Wanda hit target after target.

_ "Again, Isabel." _

Wanda kept on firing, the bullets popping out of the chamber over and over again.

Natasha watched as the background slowly morphed into a white arena, red words written on the walls, a woman watching from the stands up top. 

And instead of a target, Wanda was running around in a shooting match with another  _ person _ , a  _ teen _ , as bullets fired, again and again, the sounds of the gunshots ringing through the room.

The redhead felt her mind melting into a flashback, and she fought to keep the thoughts of Red Rood, of Madame B, of killing peers away.

Each gunshot was like another shard of glass stabbing her through the heart, it hurt her  _ so much  _ because she knew what Wanda was going through and every pull of the trigger reminded her of what she,  _ herself,  _ endured, the memories that SHIELD attempted to hide away making themselves more prominent with every shot.

Hill was off to the side, her eyes wide as she watched the scene. Apparently, the agent had seen enough because she said “food,” loud and clear, and Natasha watched again as the background shifted into another room, one with rows and rows of teens bending over their food as they silently ate.

The redhead’s eyes widened when she noticed that Wanda was at the front of the room on her knees, her head bowed down as the same woman from the last scene held a whip, screaming at her.

Then, the sounds of the whip hitting Wanda’s back sounded through the room, and Natasha fought her every instinct telling her to  _ run,  _ that this was too much for her, that she shouldn’t be here because it was too much like her past experiences.

She watched as the whip struck Wanda over and over again, listened to the brunette’s desperate cries, forced herself to keep watching when the red blood spatter of reopened wounds flew from the little witch’s back.

“Knife.”

Wanda was dueling someone, armed with two knives, and Natasha watched as she plunged one of them into the other teen’s stomach, ignoring the cry of pain from the boy.

“Sleep.”

Wanda was handcuffed to the bed, shock collar around her neck, and Natasha subconsciously rubbed the still-there scars on her wrists.

It continued like this for hours more, Maria calling out a word and Wanda showing a memory related to it, related to Crimson, baring her trauma and pain for everyone to see.

“Training,” Hill called out.

This time, the memory started out in some sort of penthouse, different than all the other memories that Wanda’s brain had shared, and Natasha’s senses went on full alert as she saw a man lying unconscious on the bed.

Then, Wanda walked in the bedroom and she was dressed in red lingerie, not her normal sports bra and leggings, and Natasha could feel the air around her freeze because they all knew what was coming next.

She really didn’t want her prediction to come true.  

Natasha watched in horror as the man awoke, slightly panicking before seeing Wanda circling around him and the redhead shuddered at the look the man was giving the brunette, and it was like she was transported back to Russia, pre-Avengers, pre-SHIELD, post-Red room and back in one of those hotels where she had used to body as a weapon, getting information from some sleazy businessman.

The redhead fought to keep watching because she needed to  _ know,  _ needed to know what happened to Wanda even if it meant hurting herself in the process because she had  _ promised _ , after all, vowed to stay by the brunette and to run now would mean she would be like all the therapists that she had scared away during her reprogramming.

Her chest tightened as she watched Wanda, her eyes closed, tears running down her face, heard the groans of the man, and Natasha ducked behind one of the lab tables, leaning against it as she fought to keep the anxiety attack from taking over her full-force, sinking to the ground, her breath shaky as she inhaled and exhaled slowly.

_ It’s too much like Red Room. _

“That’s all of them,” Hill said, her voice a little shaky, and Natasha took in a deep breath before standing back up, slipping her mask back on as she walked over to help Wanda get out from the machine.

She watched as Wanda opened her eyes, the panic evident in them before she saw Natasha.

(Another piece of her broke at how  _ lost  _ Wanda looked)

“Done?” Wanda asked, her voice shaky as Natasha pulled her up and gave her a slight nod. “How long was I,” she bit her lip, unsure of how to continue, “-under?”

“Too long,” Natasha replied, helping her out of the lab, ignoring everyone else as she focused on Wanda, and how the brunette had been through so much but was still standing next to her now, living and breathing like a normal human being.

Except nothing about her, about  _ either  _ of them, was ever going to be normal.

\--- 

“You saw?” Wanda asked as she took a sip of vodka. “Everything?”

“Yes,” Natasha replied, a pang of hurt running through her body as she watched the brunette take sip after sip.

“The- the men? Everyone I killed?”

“Everything.”

And Wanda turned to look at Natasha, truly  _ look  _ at her, the brunette’s clear blue eyes now glossy, tears running down her face as she leaned into Natasha’s chest, sobbing as the redhead felt the tears stain through her shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” Natasha whispered as she wrapped her arms around the trembling teen.

_ I wasn’t there to save you. _

She replayed Wanda’s memories in her mind as her hand stroked Wanda’s back, her lips slightly touching the top of Wanda’s head on instinct as she thought of the men who had violated Wanda, forced her,  _ raped  _ her, the officials who forced her through her whole ordeal; the killing, the punishments, the training, everything that had turned that strong teen into a trembling mess crying in her arms.

A shudder ran through her body as she thought of the two officials, the ones that hadn’t been caught, still on the run. Natasha was just so  _ angry;  _ angry at those people, angry at SWORD, angry at the universe for forcing this trauma upon  _ Wanda _ , out of all people.

And it was still scary to her that she even  _ cared  _ so much, wanted to do everything in her power to take away the pain.

She hadn’t been raised to care, to show emotion at all.

And yet here she was, stroking the back of a woman who had someone wormed her way into the redhead’s heart. 

—-

Natasha carried the brunette to bed that night, after Wanda was all but passed out drunk, pulling open the covers and laying the little witch gently on the mattress.

“T’anks,” Wanda mumbled, her eyes closing as she quickly fell asleep.

Natasha sat on the other side of the bed and watched as the brunette slept (not creepy at all), her brown hair splayed over the pillow, eyes closed, her chest rising up and down with even breaths. 

It was scary how much she  _ cared  _ for the little witch, how much she wanted to make all of her pain go away even if she had to sacrifice herself to do it. The brunette had looked into her eyes before she fell asleep, her pain evident, and Natasha had seen someone who was  _ lost,  _ someone who had gone through trauma and would never be the same.

She saw a little bit of herself in Wanda, and she couldn’t will herself to stop. The lost girl, childhood stolen, forced into something that no one should ever have to go through, still recovering, still groping around in the dark trying to find who she was. 

Except she had shoved her feelings and the trauma down and assumed a confident personality, pretending to be someone she wasn’t, while Wanda faced her feelings head-on, confronting them with a courage the redhead never had.

But nevertheless, she couldn’t stop seeing herself in Wanda’s lost eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just take a moment and appreciate how BAD this chapter is. It was rough (when I mean rough, I mean almost painful) writing this because I REALLY want to get to more Scarlet Widow stuff but honestly this is kinda essential to the plot...   
> who am i kidding im just making excuses for my crappy writing.
> 
> so yeah sorry about this mess of a chapter :| sorry i made you guys wait so long for such a bad update but i PROMISE its going to pick up after this.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18,691 words later...  
> (this is it guys. it's THE chapter.)

Wanda hesitantly walked into the room, taking in the plush-looking couches, the light color palette that filled the room (probably decorated tastefully by some stupid government official), an older woman sitting on one of the couches with her hair in a bun.

_ “Therapy,” _ Steve had said, approaching her after dinner a couple nights ago,  _ “It’s the one thing that Tony and I agree on, so, please. Just go. It helps, trust me.” _

And he had patted her on the back in the most Steve-ish way possible but she had still jerked at the unprovoked touch, and Steve had looked so guilty that she thought she would humor him (and Tony, but mostly him) by going to therapy.

And then she had a nightmare that night and had woken up in cold sweat, her back still stinging from the whip, and she knew that she should probably do  _ something  _ about that.

Natasha had not been happy at first with the idea, but had grudgingly said it was okay after some convincing done by Steve and negotiating some terms with Wanda and the therapist, (probably by using threats, Tony’s lawyers, and a tad bit excessive amount of physical force, but Wanda could ignore that because it was Natasha, fighting for  _ her _ ).

Namely that she would be there, sitting outside the whole time, and if Wanda needed anything she would gladly bust down the door. Or if Wanda wanted to stop, the therapist would stop or else Natasha would probably throw her out the window. Or if the therapist pushed Wanda into doing something she was uncomfortable with, Tony’s lawyers would sue her until she had nothing left.

The only reason the woman was sticking around was probably because she was being bankrolled by Tony.

And maybe Steve was right, maybe therapy could help, help with the numbness, the despair, the flashbacks, the nightmares, and Wanda was willing to give it a shot because of that.   __

“Hi,” The woman said, standing up from the couch, jolting Wanda back into the annoyingly cheerful room. “My name is Dr. Adler, although you can call me Anna if you want. Please, have a seat.”

Wanda gently shuffled over to the couch across from the doctor, plopping down, her arms crossed, swallowed by her sweater, legs tightly pushed together.

“What would you like me to call you?” Dr. Adler asked.

“Wanda’s fine,” the brunette replied, her voice quiet as she looked around the room.

“Okay, Wanda it is.”

They sat in silence for a couple of moments, Wanda looking around a little more until she noticed that Dr. Adler hadn’t said anything more. The brunette cocked an eyebrow up, making eye contact with the doctor.

“I’m just here as a person for you to talk to, Wanda. We can spend these sessions in complete silence if you want. You don’t have to say anything you don’t want,” Dr. Adler said, taking off her glasses.

“How much do you know about me?” Wanda finally asked, her voice quiet, after a couple moments, looking down at her hands.

“SHIELD gave me a file, but it’s very vague and I only skimmed over it. I prefer to talk to you instead.”

“What you learn about me- who do you report to?”

“No one.”

“Not even Tony Stark?” Wanda asked, looking up from the floor.

“Doing so would result in me getting my medical license taken away from me, and I would be barred from doing this,” Dr. Adler motioned around her, “again, so no. Not even Tony Stark. Anything you say to me will never leave this room.”

Wanda leaned back into the couch, her arms still crossed, dubious of the woman sitting across from her. 

“And your,” she cleared her throat, “um, friend, came in, busted in actually, and told me some things, so I’m not going to be doing anything you don’t want me to do.”

Dr. Adler cleared her throat again, jolting Wanda a little. “Anyways, do you have anything you would like to talk about?” Dr. Adler asked, her voice friendly as she clasped her hands together.

“I, um, I have nightmares a lot. Flashbacks too,” Wanda said after a moment, her voice quiet, “just- how can I stop them?”

“Well, for the flashbacks, it can be helpful knowing some of your triggers- what sets a flashback off,” the older woman explained, “and that way, you can know what to avoid. The nightmares are a little more tricky. Normally, I would prescribe some-”

“No drugs,” Wanda said quietly, as she looked up into the woman’s eyes.

“That’s what your friend said as well. Can I ask why?”

A moment passed before Wanda answered, voice small, hesitant. “You know that I have powers,” Wanda held up a hand, the red light swirling around her fingers, “and we- I, don’t know how drugs affect them.”  _ And I have self-destructive coping tendencies, so no drugs for me. _

“Okay,” Dr. Adler responded, taking in the new information.

They talked like that for around an hour more, Wanda revealing bits and pieces of herself, Dr. Adler picking them up and attempting to make sense of them.

At the end of the session, Wanda found that it hadn’t been so bad, that maybe she could do this, go to therapy, entrust someone with her deepest and darkest secrets. From what she could tell, her therapist had good intentions and probably wouldn’t fuck around with her emotions (thanks to Natasha’s threats) and maybe, it was good to have someone to talk to other than Natasha, someone who was removed from the whole situation.

When Wanda exited the office, Natasha was there waiting for her, jumping up immediately and giving the therapist a death glare. “How was it?”

“Okay,” Wanda responded as they walked slowly down the white halls, bustling with agents and technicians who all worked for the Avengers. “She’s actually nice.”

“Do you want to go back?” Natasha asked, noticing that Wanda had tensed up when a technician had brushed past her, slightly skimming her shoulder, and she had to guide the brunette over to the side of the large hallway, her hand on the small of Wanda’s back. “Wanda?"

The fog in the brunette’s eyes cleared as she focused on Natasha, noticing how the redhead’s hand was still on her back and how their faces were a couple of inches apart from each other.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a couple of moments; Wanda’s hazy blue meeting Natasha’s piercing green before the redhead’s eyes moved down and focused on her lips.

Then someone dashed passed them, nudging Natasha and the moment was broken as both women looked away from each other, Natasha letting out a little cough. 

“So, do you want to go back to therapy?”

“Yes,” Wanda responded, her voice quiet, “I think it helps.”

Natasha guided Wanda back into the middle of the hallway, back towards the Avengers facilities and even as people jostled and ran past, the redhead’s hand never left her back. 

\---

Wanda walked into the kitchen that evening, everything looking pristine and clean as normal, except there was a knife laying out on the kitchen counter.

Normally, it wouldn’t bother her, except the silver glint, the dark handle, the blade looked all too familiar, and she felt herself being teleported back, dragged in, because it was that  _ exact knife  _ that she had trained with, thrown at dummies in the bare concrete room, and  _ fuck  _ she felt herself fading back.

_ She was back in the room, bare concrete walls, a table in the corner with knives sitting on it, and the glare of them in the white light caught her eye. _

_ There was another target set up on the wall, this time printed on some dummy’s chest, and Mr. T was pacing around her again as she stared at the knives. _

_ “What am I supposed to do with these?” Wanda asked, her voice hard, emotionless as she stood over the weaponry, looking but not touching. _

_ “You know what you are supposed to do, Isabel.” _

_ She wordlessly opened up her hands, let the red light seep from them as her powers wrapped around the handle of one of the knives, picking it up and accelerating it into the target, close to the center but not quite. _

_ “Again.” _

_ She performed the exercise again, the knife ending up a little further from the middle and her body shuddered as Mr. T approached her from behind. _

_ “You are distracted today,” he said, as he pressed his body against hers, taking her hair and brushing it back with his hands. _

_ Then he pressed a button and there was a jolt in her ankle, forcing a cry of pain from her mouth as she crumpled to the ground. He stood in front of her now, peering over her, his gaze hard as he struck her on the face, once, twice, before she found the strength to stand back up. _

“Wanda.”

_ She used her powers again, taking the knife and holding it up, forcing it towards the target- _

“Holy shit!” someone screamed, and Wanda was jolted back into the present, her ankle still throbbing, her face stinging, the memory of the concrete room still fresh in her mind. The brunette whipped her head around and saw Sam standing there, the knife from the counter centimeters away from his chest, and Wanda finally noticed the red light seeping from her hands, wrapping around the dark handle.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Wanda said, her voice trembling as her powers moved the knife back a couple inches and then dropped it on the ground, the red light gone from her hands. “I didn’t mean to.” 

The brunette jumped up from her seat and dashed from the room, her brown hair flying out from behind her, turning away quickly from Sam.

“Wait-” Sam called out, but it was no use.

Wanda was already gone, and the knife was lying on the floor a couple of inches from his feet.

\---

“Let’s run, Nat. Ditch all this hero bullshit,” Wanda said, vodka bottle in hand, face red with drunkenness, sounding so sincere, so ready that Natasha almost wanted to comply with her request, grab onto her hand and never look back.

The redhead had found Wanda after Sam had called and told her what happened, and she was sitting at the bar already halfway drunk when Natasha had finally arrived.

She hated seeing Wanda like this.  

“We’ll run so far they’ll never catch us.”

Natasha knew they couldn’t run though, no matter how much any of they wanted to. “I wish we could,” Natasha replied, cradling a club soda in her hands. “Run away from all of this. But we can’t, Wanda.”

“There’s nothing we can’t do together.” And Wanda stared into Natasha’s eyes and the redhead felt like Wanda could see it  _ all,  _ see how much she wanted to run away with her, see how much she wanted to escape from her current life and just start over.

There was a moment of silence before Natasha responded, ditching her club soda and taking Wanda’s drink to dump it down the sink (she hated that Wanda drank so much).

“Come on, we got to get you to bed,” Natasha said, taking Wanda’s arm and tugging her off the bar stool, Wanda complying with her with a small  _ humph _ . 

“Imagine it, Nat,” Wanda said, slurring her words slightly while her arm was around Natasha’s shoulders, her steps uneven as they stumbled into the hallway leading to Wanda’s room. “We could just run from it all. No Tony, no Steve, no killing, no being heroes.”

And Natasha could detect the words unsaid, the  _ no Crimson or Red Room,  _ the  _ no hints of the past,  _ the  _ no demons haunting,  _ and it was  _ terrifying  _ because the urges inside of her to run away had never been so active.

And it would be with Wanda,  _ Wanda,  _ who was kind-hearted, inexperienced, but still so  _ pure  _ even with her extremely tragic past, Wanda who she may or may not have  _ feelings  _ for (it sounded so goddamn childish when she put it that way), Wanda who was beautiful in every way, in and out, regardless of her demons of the past.

“We would only have each other,” Natasha responded, voice scratchy, sounding hesitant.

“And wouldn’t that be enough?” Wanda asked quietly, sounding tired, staring into the redhead’s eyes with brutal conviction and Natasha knew that Wanda was right, that all she needed was the little witch and that would be enough. Forever. 

The redhead let Wanda slump into her bed and helped the brunette slip under the comforter, staying silent to avoid how much she wanted to drop it all and just run, Wanda in hand. She sat on the bed as the brunette fell asleep, her blue eyes fluttering shut, her breath slowing as Natasha watched her chest rise up and down evenly.

“Yes it would, Wanda,” Natasha whispered as she stood up after a moment, stepping out of Wanda’s bedroom, flicking the lights off and closing the door behind her. 

“It would be enough.”

\---

Natasha turned her head slightly, observing Wanda from afar as the brunette took large swigs of vodka, sitting at the kitchen island.

The mission she was sent on had been a simple one; an arms dealer had made a very large deal with some villainous organization, and they needed to intercept the weapons made from Ultron’s minions dead bodies.

Easy enough, really.

They got the weapons and got out, turned the arms dealer over to the Interpol but had missed the people who had bought the weapons, but that wasn’t their original goal so it didn’t matter that much.

She only had a couple of scratches and bruises, which was a miracle considering how distracted she had been the entire time because all she could think about was Wanda, how desperate she had looked when Natasha had told her that she was leaving, how when the brunette stared into her eyes all she could see was  _ “Please don’t leave me here, alone” _ and how she  _ was _ left all alone, other than Tony and Vision (and they weren’t much company, especially when Tony was working on something).

Her chest had tightened every time she had thought about Wanda’s expression, the desperation on her pale face, and when she had finally come back after the two weeks of her absence she had found  _ this _ .

Wanda was drinking. A lot. Too much.

And with every swig of the bottle, Natasha knew that Wanda was slowly poisoning herself, killing herself from the inside and she couldn’t stand it because she  _ knew _ how much Wanda was hurting and she had left for two weeks, and now Wanda was drinking because of  _ her _ .

She could see the pain etched on Wanda’s face as she walked over to the kitchen island, and it killed her. 

She just cared for Wanda  _ so much. _

\---

"What's this really about? Why are you drinking so much?" Natasha demanded as she watched Wanda circle her, arms crossed and on the verge of tears, pacing in the commons room.

"It's about SWORD, Natasha! Nothing else!" Wanda responded, brushing her hair back, her words slightly slurred, face red.

"Really? Are you even sober right now, Wanda?” Natasha asked, and she watched as the brunette opened and shut her mouth, clearly not wanting to give her an answer. Natasha scoffed at Wanda’s lack of response, feeling all the more angry (and concerned) for the little witch as she took a step closer to her.

“I can’t watch you do this to yourself. You’re self-destructing!” Natasha yelled, her voice loud, angry.

“Then don’t! Go ride out on your high-ass horse because you’re so much better than me. You’ve pulled your shit together after a tragic event, and I, evidently,” Wanda motioned over her body, “am still a fucking mess!” 

“Goddamnit, Wanda! You can’t keep turning to a bottle!” Natasha walked over to the brunette, the redhead’s hands grasping onto Wanda’s arms, her voice quieter this time as she looked into Wanda’s eyes. “What’s to say that I’m not going to find you dead on the floor, Wanda? Because you’ve drunk too much?”

“Well, that would certainly be easier than all of this,” Wanda said quietly, hoarsely, and Natasha’s heart broke again at how small Wanda looked in the large room, how  _ broken  _ the brunette looked with her mousy hair and large eyes.

“Can’t you see that I care about you, Wanda?” Natasha asked, voice quiet, scratchy, “You won’t heal if you don’t stop drinking.” 

A beat. 

“I would know.”

They were extremely close to each other now, their foreheads almost touching, their faces mere inches apart from each other as they stared into each other’s eyes and they could feel each other breathe, in and out, they were so close.

“I just care about you so much,” Natasha muttered as she looked into Wanda’s eyes. 

And then all of the feelings of the past three years came rushing back, floating up to the surface, boiling over, and Wanda watched as Natasha’s pupils grew larger, watching the redhead’s eyes focus on her lips and they were  _ so close together _ , Wanda slightly leaning over Natasha as they grew closer together, closing the gap between the two of them. 

On instinct, Wanda leaned in first, Natasha taking a moment before following, searching in Wanda’s eyes for a sign that she  _ wanted  _ this and that this wasn’t some cruel dream that the redhead’s brain had made up.

And then all Wanda could register was that there were lips capturing hers, softly, and the kiss was filled with longing, affection,  _ emotion, _ and she felt the rest of the world around her melt away, fade away, and there was a light, euphoric feeling in her chest that she has never felt before.

_ Happiness. This is what happiness feels like. _

They stayed like that, almost no space between them, lips meeting for what could be minutes, hours, days (really they were past the point of caring at this point). Neither could pull away and break the bubble that they were in, the bubble where nothing else mattered and there was no Crimson, no SWORD, no dead twins, no Red Room, no hints of the past.

Because the only thing that mattered to either of them was already in their arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey.. I'm on tumblr now-  
> https://spreadyourwings-likeicarusdid.tumblr.com/
> 
> I write and post some stuff on there too- feel free to check it out if you want, or ask any questions on there regarding anything (or ask in the comments here as well)
> 
> But a HUGE thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, and bookmarked this fic! You've all stood by me through all 18,000 words of whatever this is and thank you thank you thank you so much for that. You guys make my day you have no idea.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO. Let's list everything this chapter is:  
> \- it's short  
> \- it's literally ALL thoughts and no human-to-human interaction  
> \- it's the definition of a filler chapter  
> \- it's angsty  
> \- it sucks
> 
> Sorry I made you guys wait so long for such a crappy update :|

Wanda didn’t know if she could be in a relationship right now. Dedicate herself to someone, start another relationship even when she was still recovering and patching herself back up.

Give when she didn’t have anything to give.

She knew that she was just about a blubbering mess about half the time, afraid to go to sleep because of the impending nightmares that were sure to come, waking up to a bedroom she had trashed because of her uncontrollable powers, the fact that she couldn’t even go  _ near  _ a sports bra without having a panic attack, really she wasn’t even half of the person she was before this.

She’s not the same.

Hasn’t been the same since the Raft, although that was pretty much expected.

And a lot of it was Natasha putting her back together, because the redhead had gone through this herself and somehow recovered from it to become the person that she was today.

The person who didn’t flinch when she killed someone, but the person who could be so caring at the same time.

Wanda didn’t flinch anymore, really.

But they had kissed the night before and Wanda had actually  _ felt  _ something for the first time in a long time, and it was like she was coming up for fresh air because for once she felt emotions that weren’t despair or just plain numbness, and it seemed like Natasha was the only person that could make her feel something so far. Correction, make her feel like she was  _ flying,  _ made her feel like she could conquer the world with just one kiss.

And it was  _ Natasha,  _ for heaven’s sake,  _ Natasha  _ who had the perfect jawline and was muscular but also curvy at the same time, who never had a strand of hair out of place in her life, who had piercing green eyes that gave Wanda the chills when she looked into them, who reeked dominance and confidence everywhere she went.

Wanda really liked the dominance, for some reason (but she only liked it in Natasha, not anyone else because that sent her back to the penthouse).

And she found herself falling harder and harder for Natasha each day, so there was that.

_ Do you love Natasha enough to sacrifice yourself? _

And the answer was  _ yes _ , she loved Natasha so much that she was willing to do anything for her, was willing to bleed herself out so that the redhead could live, she was willing to sacrifice anything, she was so far gone for Natasha. 

_ I’ll bleed myself dry for you. _

\---

Natasha’s told herself that she didn’t need this kind of thing, a  _ relationship _ with someone else, because a relationship meant sharing emotions, sharing feelings, and she really had no idea how to do that.

She had no  _ need _ to bare her soul to someone else. In fact, she was perfectly content with her current life which involved a lot of saving the world, working out, that type of thing.

Except when she stared into Wanda’s eyes, she felt a hole inside her open further, a missing piece that could only be filled with, well,  _ love. _

She had tried to fill it before, with Bruce, but he had left her, running away and just disappearing while  _ she _ was left behind, left with emotions that she couldn’t express nor figure out.

But Wanda,  _ Wanda  _ made her want to open up, tell the brunette all of her dark secrets, and it was  _ terrifying _ . She’s never wanted to do that before, but whenever she has looked into Wanda’s eyes she’s felt the urge to share  _ everything,  _ bare her soul to the brunette. 

Not to mention the flutters in her stomach, or the feelings of  _ attraction  _ that came up every single goddamn time Wanda came into the room. And she had never felt these feelings before, but when Wanda just simply  _ looked _ at her it was enough to make her feel like she was unraveling inside, and that made her want to break every rule that she had made about sharing secrets and showing emotion. 

And they had kissed, and it had been like fireworks going off in the sky.

But was she selfish to assume that Wanda wanted a relationship? To assume that even though Wanda was drunk, she had wanted to be kissed? Assume that she wasn’t taking advantage of the brunette?

Was she selfish to assume that Wanda felt the same way that she did?

_ Love is for children, Natalia,  _ Madame B’s voice rang in her head.

_ Then, for once in my life, let me a childish. _

_ Let me be selfish, and assume the best. _

_ Let me show that I am more than a secret. _

_ Let me. _

—-

_ She was in a dark hallway, seemingly endless as she trotted on. But there was a glint of light at the end, a doorway, and all she had to do was get there. _

_ The walk towards the light was uphill, however, and Natasha could feel her thighs burning as she took a step, one after the other, climbing upwards. _

_ She finally reached the doorway and stepped into a stark white room, empty except for- _

_ Wanda. _

_ The brunette was huddled in the corner of the room, her body limp, slouched against the wall, and there was red  _ everywhere,  _ on her clothing, on Natasha’s red leather jacket, seeping into the floor and Natasha let out a little gasp as she ran over to Wanda. _

_ “Wanda!” Natasha said, and the brunette’s head jerked up, her eyes straining to keep open. “What happened to you?” Natasha asked, frantic, worried, as she crouched down and attempted to find the source of the blood. _

_ But there was just so much, so much liquid and it was seeping into  _ her  _ clothes as well, staining her hands as she looked for the wound. _

_ “Stop-“ Wanda muttered, as she looked down and saw Natasha’s hands running through her skin, “-it hurts.” _

_ “I know it does, Wanda,” Natasha responded, as her heart broke at how fragile Wanda sounded. “What happened?” _

_ And then Wanda’s head snapped up, her eyes piercing Natasha’s, and the redhead noticed that her eyes were a scarlet red, clear as day as she stared. “Don’t you know what happened to me?” _

_ “No, I-“ _

_ “You.” _

_ “You happened.” _

Natasha awoke with a start, her body shaking, covered in cold sweat, chest heaving as she sat up. The covers were thrown off her body, sitting on the floor and she felt hot and cold at the same time, her breath quick, panicked, as she looked around and took in her surroundings.

This dream,  _ nightmare,  _ whatever it was, was different than the others because normally she dreamt about what happened in the past, about Red Room, handcuffs on her wrists, ballet, shooting and killing people, but this time it was different because  _ this  _ was predicting what could happen in the future.

She still couldn’t get the image of Wanda, weak, frail, blood seeping out of her body, out of her head, the red eyes seared into her memory.

_ It was only a dream. _

But what if it wasn’t? What if  _ she  _ was the one that ended up hurting Wanda the most?

_ You’re a destroyer of worlds,  _ Madame B’s voice ran through her head, and Natasha fought the urge to run away, except this time she wouldn’t do it with Wanda or anyone else, she would just get out and keep Wanda safe by staying away.

She  _ had  _ to stay away.

Because Wanda was going to be destroyed by  _ her. _

Natasha loved Wanda so much, and in the end, that’s what was going to kill the both of them.

—-

Wanda had no idea what was going on.

Namely, Natasha had been avoiding her; fleeing from the room whenever she walked in, dodging eye contact or any attempts from Wanda to even talk to her. She still accompanied Wanda to therapy, sat outside, walked her back, but there was only awkward small talk as they strolled through the hallway and never any physical contact.

It was almost like the events of the past year hadn’t happened, like Wanda was back to being the new, green child she was before Crimson and the Accords, the kid that didn’t depend on anyone else, especially  _ Natasha _ , who had been so icy with her then just like she was now.

And the kiss- it was like that never happened either. 

Every time Wanda approached Natasha, she would dash off, run away from the room and the one time that Wanda had made eye contact with Natasha, she had seen something she thought she would never see before.

Fear.

Like Natasha was  _ scared _ , for some reason. 

Of what, she didn’t know. 

But all she registered was that there was  _ fear _ in Natasha’s eyes whenever she saw Wanda, and it was  _ really  _ confusing her because she had started to rely on Natasha in order to get through the day, lean on their deep conversations, the times they would just sit on a couch and do nothing but watch random movies, rely on Natasha’s  _ presence  _ in general.

And Natasha avoiding her was slowly tearing her apart because she  _ needed  _ Natasha and her absence was making itself known as she roamed the floor that they shared, the empty halls echoing the lack of her presence and she could feel herself sinking again, being dragged down the dark vortex of loneliness and desperation.

Too bad she had been locked from the bar (it had been Natasha’s doing), so she was stuck with therapy sessions and wallowing on the floor in self-pity to fill up her time.

And her head was pounding and her body was covered in cold sweat and her hands were trembling, red light seeping off her fingertips as she laid on the floor, curled up in a ball.

_ Natasha, what did I do? _

Because,  _fuck,_ she  _needed_ Natasha so badly and it was destroying her every moment she was apart from the redhead, pulling her and ripping her to shreds, she just felt so  _empty._

And she realized that there was a void inside her, one that she felt constantly, and it could only be filled by Natasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a HUGE thank you for the support I have received on this fic (180 kudos! wow!) seriously I know I've said it all before, but you guys make my day.
> 
> and yeah. things went to shit really quickly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks y'all for putting up with me this update is like two days late?? so yeah sorry.  
> (life's been kicking me in the ass lately so it's been a time)  
> BUT  
> we're almost there. I swear.

“Hey Wanda,” Steve said as he brought their dirty dishes over to the kitchen sink, scraping some scraps into the trash with the  _ clink _ of silverware hitting the plate. Wanda had slowly started to integrate herself back into life with the team, even if  _ was _ just sitting at the table ignoring the glares between Steve and Tony and picking at her food.

Dr. Adler had suggested it to her during one of their latest sessions as a way to stop feeling isolated and it  _ did _ help just a little with the loneliness and despair, knowing that there were still people around her who felt, well, normal.

And she would take what she could get at this point, because Natasha still was avoiding her to the point where she didn’t see the redhead for almost days at a time, and it was killing her.

“Hi,” Wanda mumbled back, looking at Steve for a brief moment before looking back down at the sink, watching the water run.

“You going to do the dishes?” Steve asked, jolting Wanda out of her daze as she realized that she had literally been staring at the water for a full minute, a sponge in her hand.

“Yeah,” Wanda responded with a cough as she squirted some soap onto the sponge. She could feel Steve’s gaze on her, feel his eyes judging her quietly, probably trying to figure out whether she was mentally stable enough to be doing something like cleaning pots. 

“What?” Wanda asked, breaking the silence, instantly regretting how snappish she sounded. “Just- if you want to say something, go ahead,” she clarified.

“I’m just wondering if you’re okay,” Steve said after a moment, back leaning against the countertop, arms crossed as he looked at her, “because I know that you and Natasha were close-” 

Wanda cut Steve off with a snort, and he gave her a weird look before continuing, “-I know, she’s been avoiding you.”

“That’s a way to put it,” Wanda mumbled over the sound of the running faucet.

“She just gets a little antsy at times, you know?” Steve replied. “She’ll come around eventually.”

They were both silent for a moment as Wanda scrubbed a pan, processing what Steve had said. “Did I do something to scare her off?” Wanda finally asked, her voice quiet, almost vulnerable.

“You didn’t do anything to scare her off, Wanda.” Steve said, “From what I can see, Natasha’s just,” he searched for the right words, “evaluating some stuff.”

“She’s certainly taking her time,” Wanda replied, setting a pan off to the side, “-and it, it hurts, you know?”

And with that slip up of words, Wanda knew her walls were breaking down, that she was opening up for some reason and she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t control the urge to unload her emotional baggage at all. 

“Fuck,” Wanda muttered as she felt the tears come to her eyes and Steve gave her a concerned look as she avoided his eyes. “It’s just- I’d started to depend on her.”

“And now she’s gone.”

Steve reached over and turned off the sink before looking at her,  _ really _ looking at her with his pitying and honest eyes. “I’ll talk to her.”

Wanda responded with a nod, a stray tear running down her cheek as she watched Steve trot away, his back towards her as he left the room.

\---

_ It was dark as they trudged through the forest, their footsteps the only sounds they could hear. _

_ They had expected more resistance (like last time) but remarkably there was little to none, the only wound they bared a cut on the chest. _

_ But they were a weapon, so it didn't matter. _

_ "Welcome back, soldier." _

\---

“Sir, Ms. Romanoff is waiting outside. She wants to talk with you,” FRIDAY said, her voice ringing through the lab as Tony worked on improving his suit.

“FRIDAY, tell her I’m busy,” Tony responded, soldering a wire quickly, the metal letting out a small  _ hiss _ as it set.

“Sir, she’s insisting.”

“Dammit,” Tony cursed under his breath as his lab doors slid open, revealing a  _ very  _ pissed-looking Natasha. She walked over,  _ marched  _ over to him, staring him down in a way that would make normal people cower in fear.

“Tony, please explain why when I came back, Wanda’s head was stuck in a vodka bottle,” Natasha said, her voice cold.

Tony turned his head to face her, turning off the soldering iron as he lifted his mask up. “Well, it’s her choice-”

“Oh, you  _ have  _ to be bullshitting me,” Natasha said, interrupting him, “I told you to keep watch over her, Tony! I was gone for two weeks. That’s it. All you had to do was keep track of her, make sure she didn’t do something like this.”

Tony stepped back from the lab table, setting down the soldering iron and walking over to Natasha as she continued. “And you just spend your time down here, ignoring her.”

“I’m sorry,” Tony finally said after Natasha glared at him for a couple more moments, her eyes icy. 

“That doesn’t even  _ begin  _ to cut it, Stark. You got her into therapy. Fine. But talking out feelings while abusing alcohol doesn't cut it!” Natasha walked closer towards him, lowering her voice as she continued, her voice quieter, deadlier. “She needed so much help already. And with the withdrawal symptoms, it’s going to make her feel crappier than she already does. 

Natasha stared at him dead in the eyes. “You know how it feels. We  _ both  _ know how it feels.”

Tony stared at her for a couple of moments before crossing his arms, his voice carrying its usual cockiness as he responded. “If you care so much, why don’t you go help her out? Instead of spending your time down her, yelling at me?”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and Tony knew he had crossed a line.

“If you weren’t the one funding this whole operation, I would’ve killed you a second ago,  _ Stark, _ ” she spit out his name like a curse, “don’t doubt that.”

“I never have,” Tony responded, his voice low as they stared each other down, the tension around them increasing.  

“Good,” Natasha said, glaring at him for another moment before turning and walking away, the lab doors closing behind her with a quiet  _ hiss _ , leaving only tension in her wake _. _

—-

_ “You’re hurting her.” _

Steve’s words ran through her head as she ran to her room, past Wanda’s closed bedroom door, her chest tightening as she dashed in and slammed the door behind her. She leaned her back against the wooden door, her body trembling as she sunk down onto the floor, breath labored as she cradled her head in her hands.

_ “She’d started to rely on you, Natasha.” _

Her chest was tightening and she could feel the buzzing sound in her ear because  _ what had she done? _

_ What have I done? _

Wanda was hurting because of  _ her _ , and the thought only made her mind panic even more because  _ goddammit  _ she was trying to keep Wanda from getting hurt in the first place.

And even worse, she couldn’t see a way out, couldn’t find a situation where Wanda wouldn’t get hurt because no matter what happened, Natasha knew she was going to destroy Wanda.

If she interacted with her,  _ loved  _ her, Wanda would be destroyed by her love.

If she avoided Wanda, stayed away for both of their sake’s, the brunette would still be destroyed by  _ her  _ actions.

There wasn’t a way out, no light at the end of the tunnel, and _fuck_ _what was she going to do?_

_ “You have to talk to her, Natasha,”  _ Steve’s voice rang through her mind. But her chest tightened even further at the thought of interacting with Wanda and her anxiety hadn’t been  _ this  _ bad since Bruce had abandoned her, and she felt like she was falling, sinking into the floor because it was like there wasn’t any way out.

And so she sat on the floor, back leaned against the door, her head on her hands, her elbows on her knees as her body trembled, shook with despair and panic.

_ You did this, Natasha. It’s all your fault, you’re not good enough for her (you were never good enough for her). _

She leaned her head against the door because she needed those voices, the whispers, to  _ stop,  _ stop yelling, screaming at her.

“Please, stop,” Natasha mumbled into her body as she shook against the floor, cold sweat covering her skin, her breath labored and shaky.

“Stop.”

_ You’ve hurt her. _

“Stop,” Natasha repeated, her limbs numb other than the tingling she felt.

_ Fix it. _

“But I can’t.”

“I’ll only destroy her even more.”

\---

_ There’s so much love, so many feelings that Wanda has for this woman and she knew the first time that she had looked into those green eyes that she was gone, her mind and body and soul now only dedicated to one person. _

_ She loves so much that she feels like she’s going to burst into heart-shaped bubbles. _

_ It’s the feeling that rushes into her chest whenever she looks at Natasha, the one where she feels so much that it shouldn’t be humanly possible, the one that makes her willing to do anything for this woman. _

_ “Jump." _

_ “How high?” _

_ She can’t tear her eyes away, can’t stop thinking about her, about the way that when Natasha smiled her eyes suddenly seemed brighter, or when Natasha was busy thinking about something her facial expression would be all serious in the most Natasha way possible, and she feels like there’s no way she will be able to love anyone else in her life. _

_ It’s the little things that make her want to burst, after all. _

—-

“Steve- it’s just, what am I supposed to do?” Natasha asked, her voice wavering a little, betraying her emotions because she  _ was  _ panicking a little (a lot) about the whole situation. “You told me yourself that I hurt her, and I know I did. I just- I have no fucking idea what to do.”

“I told you, talk to her,” Steve replied as they sat around a table in the commons room, the TV muted in front of them. 

“I’ve already hurt her so much,” Natasha responded, voice cracking in the middle while ignoring Steve’s gaze, instead looking down at her hands.

“You’re hurting her even more by avoiding her,” Steve pointed out.

It was silent for a moment as Natasha thought about what Steve had said. “Okay, I talk to her. And then what? We just- fall into some sort of relationship?” Natasha asked, voice full of disbelief. “I can think of a thousand things wrong with that situation.”

“Like?”

“Age difference? The fact that I could be taking advantage of her every single moment because she’s still recovering?” Natasha scoffed as she continued, still looking down, her hands fidgeting. “Maybe how if things go south, it would probably rip up the team?” 

“Nat, look at me,” Steve said. Natasha’s eyes finally looked up, meeting his, her normally clear eyes showing confusion, almost like she was  _ lost.  _ “She needs you.” 

Natasha scoffed at Steve’s words.

“You said so yourself, she’s still recovering,” Steve said, taking a breath. “There’s no one here that really understands what she’s going through other than you. So you need to talk to her, Natasha.”

His voice was brutal, full of honesty as he continued, staring into Natasha’s eyes.

“Because she’s being destroyed regardless.”

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I've said this before but I'm going to say it again: thank you thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, or bookmarked this fic! I do read all of your comments, even if I don't respond *sheepish smile*
> 
> Comments are always appreciated :D Feel free to express your thoughts!
> 
> Also tumblr- I post one-shots there occasionally of Wanda/Nat, so check it out if you want @spreadyourwings-likeicarusdid.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited talk™ is here people.
> 
> Also for some reason I can’t connect to WiFi on my computer so I’m literally uploading this chapter with my phone..  
> Anyways this has not been proofread we die like men.

Natasha stood near the doorway of the kitchen, gathering the courage to approach Wanda who was standing at the counter, stirring some tea.

Steve had talked with her a couple of days ago, telling her that Wanda was hurting because of _her_ actions, even though Natasha knew that being around Wanda would only hurt her more. And since she couldn’t stand the thought that Wanda was unhappy because of her, she had vowed to do something about it.

And now she was here, standing ten feet away from Wanda, too chicken to walk over and open her mouth (since when had talking became this hard?), and Natasha internally sighed as she willed her feet to move but she was frozen, stuck, her feet glued to the floor.

Then, Wanda turned and looked square into her eyes and Natasha fought the urge to run as Wanda walked towards her.

(She should’ve known she couldn’t hide in the shadows, not when Wanda was around.)

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Natasha stuttered out as Wanda approached her, before turning to walk away, back towards safety. She felt Wanda’s hand grab onto her upper arm, stopping her before letting go. 

It was silent for a moment, Natasha standing, her back facing Wanda as they stood in the kitchen, a couple of feet apart. 

“Please, just tell me what I did wrong,” Wanda suddenly said, voice cutting through the tension in the room, taking a breath before continuing, “because you’re- you’re killing me here. I need you, goddammit, so much that I don’t know what to do with myself without you.”

She watched as Natasha stiffened at those words, turning to face her. Wanda walked over to Natasha, taking a couple of steps, in front of her once again. “What did I do wrong?”   

“You- you thought _you_ did something wrong?” Natasha asked, disbelief evident in her voice. 

“Did I?” Wanda asked, her voice soft.

“No!” Natasha said, “You didn’t, you _never have_ done anything wrong, Wanda.” 

“You know that isn’t true-”

“It was me. I wronged you.” Natasha interrupted, her voice firm, turning away from Wanda and straying further from her, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “The,” she swallowed before continuing, “kiss. You- you were drunk and I wasn’t thinking clearly, and you probably didn’t want it-”

“What?” Wanda cried out, interrupting Natasha’s rambling. “You thought I didn’t want to” she took a moment before continuing, her voice quieter, “kiss you?”

“Did you want to?” Natasha asked, her voice as quiet as Wanda’s, and she notices how close they are to one another in the kitchen, how she can feel the redhead’s breath as they stand face-to-face.

Wanda was silent for a moment before answering, staring Natasha right in the eyes, her voice low and quiet, “Of course.”

The brunette noticed Natasha’s eyes focus on her lips, her pupils growing larger and Wanda tore away from Natasha’s intense gaze, walking over to the kitchen island as opposed to the counters where the redhead was standing, attempting to gain some distance between them.

“Did you think it was a mistake?” Natasha asked, her voice lower, quieter, and Wanda could detect the hurt laced in her voice.

“No,” Wanda replied, her hands gripping onto the edge of the marble countertop as she felt the redhead’s gaze on the back of her forehead. “Never.”

Another awkward moment.

“I wanted the kiss,” Wanda suddenly said, her voice filling the silence.

“I did too.” 

And they were close, _really_ close to each other now, and Wanda noticed Natasha’s eyes focusing on her lips again and this time she didn’t shy away, this time she leaned in and captured the redhead’s lips with hers, and it was like fireworks going off and hearing the sounds of the angels all at the same time, the kiss is so gentle and _loving_ and Wanda loved it, loved every single moment of it.

The feeling of what must be _happiness_ flooded her chest again and she felt like she was _floating,_ almost like Natasha’s kisses, scratch that, Natasha, was a drug that she could never get enough of.

But then Natasha pulled back, slightly out of breath, a stray red strand of hair brushing over her right cheek. “Stop,” she whispered, looking down, “we can’t do,” she looked to the side, “this. Whatever this is.”

“Why?” Wanda asked, her hand still cupping Natasha’s cheek, their foreheads millimeters apart.

“It’s- I’m,” she clarified, “going to hurt you.”

“It’ll hurt me more if we can’t be together,” Wanda murmured, leaning their faces closer together so that she could feel Natasha’s breath on her lips.

“I could still hurt you,” Natasha mumbled, moving closer so that she could see every imperfection on Wanda’s face, count the number of freckles Wanda had scattered over her cheeks.

“I’m willing to take that risk,” Wanda replied and they leaned in at the same time, Natasha’s lips taking in hers, and it was silent for a couple of moments as they kissed, Wanda eventually leaning back, her forehead still rested on Natasha’s, “because this-

“You’re worth it.”

And Natasha took Wanda’s lips into hers once more as they kissed over the kitchen floor, Wanda’s hands cupping Natasha's cheeks, Natasha’s hands wrapped around Wanda’s waist and in that moment, Natasha felt that, yes, maybe everything would be okay.

—-

 Wanda stepped into the sunlight room once again, sitting down on the couch as Dr. Adler watched her, feeling the older woman’s gaze pierce her skin, and it was a little uncanny how the woman could look at her and probably read all of her emotions just like _that._

_Just like Natasha._  

_Natasha._

Wanda thought back to the previous night, about how they had kissed and how she had _felt_ something with Natasha’s lips pressed against hers and she realized that she had no idea how she had even survived the two weeks of Natasha avoiding her because kissing her was a drug, something that she has started to depend on even though she’s only felt it two times.

And it comforted her knowing that Natasha was waiting outside the office, ready to strike at any given moment if need be. 

“How are you doing today?” Dr. Adler asked, and Wanda snapped her attention back into the room.

“Fine,” Wanda replied, her voice quiet as she stared down at her fingers, “it- I think I’ve improved a little.” 

“That’s great, Wanda,” Dr. Adler said. “Has interacting with others helped?”

“In a way, I guess,” Wanda said, looking up, taking a deep breath before continuing. “But it also feels like they have something I don’t.”

“Like?” 

“They’re comfortable with who they are,” Wanda elaborated.

“And are you?”

“I don’t really _know_ who I am, I guess,” Wanda said, looking back down to the floor, fiddling with her fingers a little. “I feel like I’ve been shaken up. And there are some things that help me feel more like,” she struggled to find the right word, “whole. But I still feel- lost.”

The older woman leaned back into her seat, silence filling the room as they both processed what Wanda had just revealed.

“Okay, I have an assignment for you,” Dr. Adler said. “Go out, do something mundane, like shopping or eating in a restaurant. Get out of the compound for a day. But you have to make the choices of what you want, what you’ll do, who you’ll bring- you have to make all the decisions on that day.”

Wanda was silent for a moment as she thought about the prospect of leaving the compound, intermingling with strangers, doing normal, _mundane_ things and it terrified her but also excited her at the same time because there was a part of her that _was_ itching to go out to the city and just walk around.

But then, there was the still ever-present little lump in her ankle (which she’d learn to live with), serving as a reminder to her pain and trauma she’d endured the last time she’d been out of the compound. 

Except she really wanted to go to the city, see the sights, walk around _outside_ and not in a building. 

“Okay,” Wanda agreed, “it’ll happen.”

\---

_The sound of heels echoed in the hallway as they walked side by side, one clearly with higher authority judging by their stance._  

_"How many have we gotten?"_

_Their voice ran through the halls, stern and clear as they addressed the person beside them._

_"Forty six, Commander."_  

_They suddenly stopped, the sound of their last step fading quickly. "And how many are left?"_

_"Seventeen excluding the package, Commander."_

  _They turned towards the person beside them, staring them deep into the eyes. "Move quicker."_

_"Yessir."_  

\---

_Crash._

Natasha jolted awake to the sound of something breaking, grabbing the gun underneath her pillow on instinct before realizing that one, her bedroom was empty and two, the sounds were coming from the room across the hall.

Which meant that it was Wanda.

_Fuck._

 Natasha yanked back her covers, leaving the gun on her mattress and quickly getting up and pulling a shirt over her head before plodding into the hallway and pressing her ear against Wanda’s bedroom door.

_Crash._

She slowly cracked open the door, her eyes taking in how disheveled it was; the comforter thrown onto the ground, a lamp thrown across the room, shattered glass glistening in the moonlight, lying on the floor.

And then there was Wanda, and Natasha held back a gasp at how _vulnerable_ she looked.

The brunette was lying on the mattress, curled into a ball, her brown hair strewn across the white sheets and Natasha could hear her whimpering and that sound fucking _broke her heart_ and she couldn’t stand seeing Wanda like this, in pain and hurt because of the demons that came to life when she closed her eyes.

Then there were the red wisps of light that were coming from Wanda’s hands and Natasha could see the wet streaks on Wanda’s face as she inched closer, avoiding the glass shards on the ground as she approached the bed. 

Wanda whimpered again and Natasha felt her heart break into two as she stood at the edge of the mattress.

“Wanda,” Natasha whispered. Upon no response, the redhead figured that Wanda was in too deep, that the nightmare was probably consuming her whole and she knew that the only way to pull Wanda out was by shaking her awake. Which, she really didn’t look forward to doing, considering the menacing-looking red light coming from Wanda’s hands.

But then Wanda cried out and Natasha couldn’t take it anymore, seeing her in pain and she slowly wrapped a hand around Wanda’s wrist, bracing herself for the blast that was sure to come, shutting her eyes and preparing her back to be slammed against the wall.

Except, it didn’t, and Natasha slowly opened her eyes before gently shaking Wanda’s wrist. She watched as the brunette slowly opened her eyes, the hazy blue in them lost, sad, and in pain and Natasha felt a jolt of pain run through her body at the sight because _goddammit_ she couldn’t take it when those eyes were looking at her like that.

“Nat?” Wanda mumbled, her voice low and husky and hurt, and Natasha’s heart broke again, shattering into pieces.

“Yeah,” Natasha responded, “it’s me.”

And then Wanda let out a struggled sob as she sat up and threw herself into Natasha’s arms, tears streaking down her face once more as she cried.

“He was- he was on top of me” Wanda said in between sobs, “and I can still feel him and- _”_  

Natasha slowly rubbed circles on Wanda’s back as she cried, staining her t-shirt with tears and she could feel her insides being torn up at how hurt Wanda was and she would do _anything_ to make Wanda’s pain go away.

They didn’t say anything for a minutes, hours, seconds, as the sounds of Wanda’s sobs filled the room. “I’m here,” Natasha finally said, her voice slightly cracking as she comforted Wanda. 

“You’re here?” Wanda asked, her voice sounding hesitant.

“I’m here,” Natasha confirmed as she leaned back, looking into Wanda’s eyes, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

Wanda slightly leaned in and Natasha caught the brunette’s lips with hers as tears streamed down Wanda’s face, and Natasha felt heartbroken and love and just so many _emotions_ as they kissed.

 “Don’t ever leave,” Wanda mumbled as she pulled back, leaning her forehead against Natasha’s, “cause I need you.”

“I won’t,” Natasha replied.

“I’m here now. And I don’t ever want to leave again.”  


\---

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such the long wait, seriously. I know I’d said that it would be weekly updates, but it’s probably going to be around 9 or 10 days between updates. I’ll try to upload earlier, but no promises :(
> 
> Also thank you. This fic has received a crap ton of support and your comments/kudos/bookmarks keep me writing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this was posted using my phone (again), etc etc etc.
> 
> I swear writing fanfic is going to be the death of me.
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

\---

“Hey,” Natasha said quietly as Wanda emerged from her room, her brown hair tousled as she rubbed her eyes. “Sleep better?”

Wanda slowly nodded as she plodded over to the kitchen counter as Natasha slid some granola and yogurt over to her, along with some orange juice, Wanda letting out a yawn before sitting down on one of the stools. She ate in silence as Natasha walked over and sat down next to her, a green smoothie in her hand.

“Thank you,” Wanda suddenly said, breaking their comfortable silence as she took a sip of her orange juice.

“For what?” Natasha asked, looking at Wanda, watching as the little witch avoided her gaze but she still couldn’t help but notice how the sun just reflected slightly off of Wanda’s hair, or how even though she wasn’t wearing any makeup she still looked beautiful, her skin getting losing some of the paleness it had gained as she grew more tan, Wanda’s lips round and plump as she looked down.

“Just for being there,” Wanda replied, her voice small, “last night.” She tilted her head to meet Natasha’s eyes before looking back down at her yogurt parfait.

“Of course,” Natasha responded, “I’m here now, Wanda,” she took a beat before continuing. “I’m sorry for what I did these last two weeks. That wasn’t-”

“Smart?” Wanda guessed, a small smirk on her face, and Natasha reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear, tilting the brunette’s chin so that Wanda could face her.

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed, smirking before her expression turned serious once more. “Just- I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Wanda replied, her face turning serious once again as she picked at her food. They sat in a loaded silence, Natasha looking at the sun hitting Wanda’s hair, Wanda avoiding Natasha’s curious gaze.

“I've been wondering," Wanda suddenly said, her voice small, tilting her head to make eye contact with Natasha, “how- how did you guys find me?

Natasha looked at Wanda in the eyes before looking away, taking a sip of her smoothie before continuing, voice serious. “After you went missing- it, I,” Natasha stumbled, “we had no idea where you were.”

“And Steve told Tony that you were missing, and then Tony told Ross, and suddenly we had SHIELD and Interpol all looking for you,” Natasha said, cradling her glass with both of her hands, pausing for a moment.

“You know- after the Accords, after you went missing, Ross decided to pardon us. Because we needed to find you.”

Natasha took a deep breath before going on.

“Anyways- we’d gotten a random tip and it was so ludicrous that they decided to just send us, and then Steve found you in that- that room and you looked so-“

Natasha looked at Wanda for a moment and then immediately back down upon seeing the sadness in Wanda’s eyes, taking another deep breath, trying to calm the emotions that rose when she thought of Wanda lying in that bed, shock collar on her throat, handcuffs strapped around her wrists.

“We got you to a hospital. The rest- you know.”

They both were silent for a moment, Wanda taking in the information before speaking up. “And what’s happened now? With- with the Accords?”

“The powers tell us what to do. We do it,” Natasha replied curtly, voice betraying her feelings about the whole situation. Wanda nodded as she continued. “Steve and Sam aren’t exactly happy about it but it beats the alternative, so,” Natasha shrugged, looking up and green met blue, “we’re within the law. For now.”

\---

_ "Status report?" They asked, their voice running down the halls. _

_ "The seventeen have been acquired, Commander." _

_ They walked through the halls, the sounds of heels echoing around the two as they trotted forward. _

_ "And the package?” _

_ “It is being tracked. We are just waiting for an opening to extract, Commander.” _

_ “We use all forces for the package. No holding back. Understood, Soldier?” _

_ They stopped in the middle of the hall, their eyes staring downward at the person clad in black. _

_ “Yessir. All forces will be used, Commander.” _

_ They gave a slight nod to the soldier, marching away, the sound of heels becoming distant in the white hallways. _

\---

Wanda stood at the edge of the doorway, hip leaned against the metal frame as she looked into the room.

It had remained untouched since she had abandoned it and traded it out for something else more fitting, but Wanda felt that a part of her still lived in the space that was formally her bedroom. 

The sun leaking into the room reflected on an old lamp and the glint caught her eye as she surveyed the room, looking at the bulletin board filled with mementoes from before; tickets to movies she went to see, a postcard or two from Clint, birthday cards from Steve and Natasha and the rest of the team.

It all served as a reminder of who she  _ used  _ to be, a vigil to the part of her that was dragged through the dust and left to die on the Raft, in Crimson.

“Hey,” a voice said, and Wanda didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Natasha standing a couple of inches behind her. “What are you looking at?”

Wanda was silent for a moment as she looked at a dusty painting on the wall. “You know- just, well,  _ it,” _ She waved her arms around, “all of it,”

“It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?” Natasha asked, her voice quiet as she put a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder. “I imagine this is what looking at a childhood bedroom would look like.

“Yes,” Wanda agreed, trying not to jump at the physical contact. “Except we’ve never gotten that opportunity.”

“Good point,” Natasha responded, voice laced with amusement. 

It was silent for a moment before Wanda continued. “I just feel like I’m looking at,” she paused for a moment, looking for the right words, “something frozen in time.”

“Almost like a vigil,” Natasha said, echoing Wanda’s thoughts.

“Yes,” Wanda agreed. “A vigil,” she took a breath before continuing, “to the part of me that was lost.”

And so they stood there, Natasha’s hand in Wanda’s shoulder, standing in the doorway of the room, on the outside, looking in.

\---

“So- Dr. Adler gave me an assignment,” Wanda said, her voice quiet even as it rang through the silence. They sat on the couch, Wanda on one end, Natasha on the other, the sound of the TV quiet in the background as Natasha scrolled through her phone.

“Yeah?” Natasha asked, looked up from the device and shutting it off after a second, giving Wanda her full attention.

“I guess I need to go outside, int- interact with other people,” Wanda clarified, looking down as she fiddled with her fingers.

“This soon?” Natasha asked, her tone doubtful as she furrowed her eyebrows. “Just- are you ready?”

“She seems to think so,” Wanda responded, her eyes darting to look at Natasha’s before looking back down.

“Are  _ you  _ ready?” Natasha asked again.

“I think- to go outside, yes,” Wanda took a breath before continuing, “but maybe not interacting with others.”

“Okay,” Natasha said slowly, letting the words sink in, “well, where do you want to go?”  

Wanda looked at Natasha, slightly blushing as she replied, “Cen- Central Park? Is- is that even a place?”

Natasha slightly chuckled at Wanda’s rosy cheeks because it was just so  _ goddamn  _ cute. “Yeah, Wanda. That’s definitely a place,” Natasha said, her voice laced with amusement.

Wanda looked at Natasha’s twinkling eyes, the smirk on her face and she let out a short bark of laughter herself, covering her face with her hands as she shook her head. “God, I’m a mess, aren’t I?”

“No, you aren’t,” Natasha replied, chuckling again, her voice turning serious after a second, “of course you aren’t.”

Natasha looked at Wanda for a moment with something that could be adoration or  _ love _ before turning away, letting it a little cough. “When do you want to go?”

“Day after tomorrow?” Wanda repsonded.

“Sure,” Natasha said, sounding almost  _ excited,  _ looking at Wanda for a second more before her phone chimed, and she turned her attention back to the mobile device. 

\--  

“What do you mean, Tony?” Steve demanded, his voice loud, angry as he stared Stark down from across the lab. “What the heck does that mean?” 

“They- SHIELD, Interpol, whatever, they haven’t found the leaders of SWORD yet,” Tony said.

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Sam asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

“Everything was fine, okay? I didn’t  _ need  _ to tell you all.”

“We’re supposed to be a  _ team,  _ Tony-” Sam started, before being cut off.

“Don’t pretend like everything was fine,” Steve interrupted, stepping closer to Tony, “it’s not. Not since you signed that stupid slip of paper they called the Accords. Sam’s right,” Steve motioned towards him, “we’re supposed to be a team.”

“And are we?” Tony challenged, taking a step forward. “Are we still the amazing, incredible team that saved the world from those aliens and an AI gone haywire?”

“You created the second one,” Sam pointed out, and Tony glared at him before continuing.

“Are we still that team?” Tony asked again, crossing his arms across his chest as he stared Steve down. “I think we are. I think that we have the potential to be a better team with better morales,” he emphasized the last two words with his hands, “with the Accords. You two are under them, don’t forget.”

The silence filling the room was heavy, the tension in the air so thick someone could cut it with a knife.

“Tony Stark,” Steve declared, tearing away from the stare, pacing around the room, “always with his endless pursuit of perfection.”

A beat.

“I don’t think we’re that team anymore though, Tony,” Steve said, planting his feet on the ground. “We have opportunities to be better, like you said-”

“Did you just agree with me?” Tony interrupted.

Steve glared at him before continuing. “-but you keep on tearing us apart. We aren’t a team anymore. We haven’t been a team since  _ you, _ ” he pointed at Tony, “got Wanda and Clint and Sam and Lang locked in the Raft."

"You did that to yourselves," Tony responded, voice cocky.

"Oh, you have  _ got  _ to be bullshitting me," Sam murmured as the three men stood in a triangle formation, the tension radiating between them. “We did the right thing. You got us locked up for it,” he spat out.

“And now you don’t tell us about this?” Steve asked. “People who held and tortured and did  _ unimaginable  _ things to one of our own are still free, walking around with no consequences?”

“You didn’t tell me about how your best friend killed my parents,” Tony pointed out.

“That was because I didn’t need to-” Steve started.

“And I didn’t need to for this.” Tony retorted.

“Those aren’t the same things-” Sam interrupted, before all hell broke loose as they spat out words, phrases, arguing with each other as the volume in the room grew louder and louder.

“Look, SHIELD said they had people on it, okay?” Tony yelled, the room suddenly becoming silent as they all stared each other down, tension cracking between them. 

“And what are you doing about it?” Steve suddenly asked, breaking the silence. “You just sit down here, fiddling with your wires or whatever,” he motioned towards the lab tables, filled with gadgets and dust and empty coffee mugs.

“I’m not going to be sitting here, doing nothing, while people we need to find roam free,” Steve declared, before storming out of the room, the lab doors sliding shut behind him.

“Goddamnit,” Sam cursed, glaring at Tony before walking out after Steve, giving Tony one last look before disappearing out the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tHE DRAMA THO.
> 
> checkout my tumblr if you want!  
> (shameless self promotion)  
> @spreadyourwings-likeicarusdid
> 
> I recently posted a series of questions that you can ask me that are all related to fanfiction. And of course, there’s the usual oneshots posted there. Feel free to check it out.
> 
> Also seriously thank you. The support on this fic has been incredible, and you guys keep me writing!
> 
> k im so fukin tired gonna pass out now bye


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh. my. fucking. god. it's been one long-ass month guys. i'm so sorry that i haven't been updating this, i know i said like ten days but then i hit an intense writer's block with this chapter and also got caught up in a daily writing challenge for another ship... anyways as you can see i am not dead *insert gif of t'challa saying that in Black Panther here*.
> 
> this was, like i said before, extremely hard to write. i'm not incredibly comfortable with writing action scenes, but this chapter warranted one and i tried my best. i'm sad to say i'm not incredibly satisfied with it because it really isn't my best writing and i'm so sorry.
> 
> okay i'll let you read the chapter now. i like to call it "chapter 13, aka the one where everything goes to shit"

“You have an incoming video call from Maria Hill,” FRIDAY’s voice boomed, scaring Tony a little before he went back to editing some code he’d written a couple of days earlier.

“Call accepted,” Tony replied, turning his attention back towards the computer screen as he replaced a line or two.

“Stark,” Hill’s face popped up in the air, her voice vibrating around the room.

“Yes?” Tony replied, angrily tapping away at his keyboard for a couple of moments, still immersed in his work.

“I have some updates on SWORD,” Hill said, her voice emotionless through the screen, waiting for Tony to respond. “Stark!”

“What?”

“Updates on SWORD! The organization that kidnapped Maximoff!” Hill yelled, finally grabbing his attention. “Okay. We don’t have a location on them yet, but it seems like they’re planning something.”

“Planning what?” Tony asked.

“Not sure.”

“And how do you know this?”

Hill tensed up a little as she let out a little cough before speaking. “They broke into our facilities a couple of days ago. Took the kids we’d rescued from the facilities in the mountains.”

Tony leaned back in his chair, running his hand through his hair. “Seriously? You didn’t think to tell me this before?”

“I only knew a couple of minutes ago, Stark. Apparently, Coulson felt it wasn’t important to share,” Hill responded, sounding slightly frustrated.

“Got to be fucking kidding me,” Tony muttered. “Any good news, at least?”  

“We’ve identified the people we’re missing,” Hill flicked up an image; a woman, her hair in a tight bun wearing a combat suit, walking next to a man dressed similarly, “Anna  Alexandrovna Primalova, former member of the KGB, and Isaac Thorne, a Green Beret that went MIA four years ago.” 

“What do you need me to do?” Tony asked immediately, his eyes memorizing their faces quickly.

“Nothing. Stay put, Stark. Keep the Avengers in line. That’s it,” Hill replied, ending the video call soon after. 

Tony leaned back in his chair, muttering to himself as he pulled up the security feed lazily. “Steve and Sam should be back by now…”

“Shit.”

The Avenger’s quarters were completely empty, save for Vision gliding around.

“Where did they go?” 

\---

They walked through Central Park together, both of them wearing baseball caps and sunglasses in an attempt to conceal their identity. Wanda walked right beside Natasha, pressing her arm against Natasha’s as a way to comfort her, Natasha giving her a small, reassuring smile as they strolled. 

Natasha’s phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket and she momentarily stopped to open it, checking the caller ID before answering.

“Hey, Steve.”

Natasha paused for a moment, presumably listening to Steve as he talked.

“We’re in Central Park. Why?” Wanda noticed Natasha’s facial expressions growing worried, her eyebrows furrowing as she listened to Steve on the other end. 

“Natasha?” Wanda asked, slightly concerned at Natasha’s expression.

“What?” Natasha asked in disbelief, “Steve, please tell me you’re kidding.”

The expression on Natasha’s face was one Wanda had never seen before; one of fear, of disbelief,  of confusion, of worry and it was jarring to see. 

“Goddamnit. What are their names?” Natasha questioned. “Okay. We’re going to get out of here.”

And there was this growing sense of dread inside of Wanda’s chest as she watched Natasha hang up her phone and shove it back into her pocket, the redhead looking worried.

“Fuck,” Natasha cursed as she looked back up, her green eyes showing fear in the normally clear pools.

“Nat?” Wanda asked, her tone worried. 

“We need to go,” Natasha replied, already walking ahead, Wanda trotting behind her to keep up. “I’ll explain later when we have the time.”

Wanda didn’t want to question Natasha’s commands with the sense of dread only growing inside her as they walked briskly, dodging a line at a food cart. They neared the entrance, Natasha’s expression only looking  _ more  _ distressed as they walked along the sidewalk.

“I needed the car here five minutes ago,” Natasha muttered, scanning the streets for said black car.

Suddenly, a truck sped towards them and Wanda blasted them out of its path at the last moment, the vehicle crashing into the fence behind them with a loud  _ bang _ .

“Wrong car!” Natasha screamed, already sprinting away in the other direction, throwing her sunglasses into her pocket, Wanda doing the same. Wanda let the red light come out of her hands as she sped up to meet Natasha. When she looked behind her shoulder, she could see people, no,  _ soldiers _ streaming out of the truck, dressed in-

_ No. Please, no. _

They sped towards Natasha and Wanda, and the brunette could see the familiar-looking catsuits they were dressed in, the familiar knives and guns they were wielding, the familiar dead eyes everyone had and the sense of dread turned into full-blast panic as Wanda slightly sped up.

Suddenly, someone else crashed in front of the soldiers and Wanda saw the glint of the recognizable red, white, and blue shield slashing back and forth. Then, the sounds of gunfire started, coming from above, and Wanda could see Sam swoop in with his trademark wings.

“Go!” Steve shouted, looking behind him for a quick second.

“Wanda, get out of here!” Natasha screamed as she heard the sound of grunts and gunfire behind them, whipping her head back around to meet Wanda’s eyes.

“Not without you,” Wanda replied, breathless but she wouldn’t let herself speed ahead and leave Natasha behind.

She wasn’t going to lose something, some _ one _ else if she could help it.

Another truck came to a stop a couple hundred feet in front of them, civilians screaming as more soldiers poured out wearing the same exact outfit, all marching towards them. Wanda knew that they could take on ten of them, maybe twenty, but as yet _another_ car came speeding up she knew the two of them couldn’t take on _these_ many people.

The red light streamed from her hands as she stood on the ground, lifting up the truck behind them into the air, Wanda waving her arms down to send it crashing onto the ground, blocking the soldiers, bricks and paved road scattering everywhere as civilians ran, their screams filling the air.

“Nat,” Wanda yelled out, “I’m going to send you over them, okay?”

“What about you?” Natasha replied, breathless as she skidded to a halt, staring into Wanda’s eyes.

“I’ll catch up,” Wanda said, already letting her powers lift Natasha into the air and over the smoking caravan of cars and soldiers. She followed soon after, letting herself fly through the air as she landed on the other side, Natasha right in front of her as they started running again.

“Where are we going?” Wanda sputtered out. She hadn’t used her powers in a long time and the fight was draining her energy quickly as she sped up towards Natasha.

“Times Square,” Natasha replied. “We might be able to lose them in the crowd.”

Wanda managed a nod as they ran off towards the large crowds of people, slowing down with Natasha as they started to walk at a slower pace, blending in with the swarms of tourists who were unaware of the chaos taking place just a few blocks away.

“Wanda? You alright?” Natasha asked, looking at the brunette. Her eyes were wide as she took shallow breaths, her chest heaving.

“SWORD. They’re here. They’ve come to get me,” Wanda replied, breathless, and Natasha could recognize this as the beginnings of an anxiety attack. Her chest panged as she watched Wanda’s expression, her panicked eyes barely visible under the sunglasses they’d just put back on.

“I’m not going to let that happen,” Natasha said as they milled with the crowd, walking past the street vendors and department stores. Natasha gently grabbed onto Wanda’s hand, looking at her through the tinted sunglasses. “I promise.”

“I just- I thought I was safe,” Wanda sputtered out, squeezing Natasha’s hand tighter, trying to keep red light from spilling out of her hands, “but I’m not and I’ve put you and Steve and Sam all in danger.” 

“Wanda, listen,” Natasha said, “this isn’t your fault. We’ll get out of here and get back to the facility. Everything will be oka-”

A truck suddenly drove through the crowd in front of them as civilians dove to get out of the way, the vehicle crashing into the store in front of them, causing the glass to go everywhere, soldiers pouring out from the doors. As they both looked back, Wanda could see a mob of soldiers marching up behind them, around a block away as smoke rose from the ruins.

Another car sped through the swarms of people before stopping to the left of them, two figures getting out of the vehicle.

“What the fuck?” Natasha muttered, watching as more trucks arrived, forming a circle around them, the screams of people filling the air. Wanda watched in horror as  _ more  _ soldiers came out from each of the trucks, marching towards them, guns raised.

A crash suddenly jerked Wanda’s attention away from the cavalry and she turned around to find Steve dusting himself off, Sam dropping down behind him a moment after.

“Wanda, why are these guys here?” Steve asked, slightly breathless.

“They’re here for me,” Wanda replied, turning her attention to the growing number of soldiers surrounding them. “They want me back.”

“What are we going to do about it?” Sam asked, turning to Steve.

“There are still civilians everywhere,” Steve responded. “Let’s try to avoid gunfire. But we  _ do not  _ let Wanda fall back into their hands. Nat-”

“I’m not leaving Wanda’s side,” Natasha declared.

“Okay-”

“Guys, love to chat and all, but we’ve got a real problem here,” Sam said, interrupting Steve. The four of them all turned around, watching the barrels of weapons inched towards them before stopping abruptly. Two figures suddenly made their way to the front of the ring around them, parting the circle slightly, standing around a hundred feet away from them.

Wanda stiffened involuntarily at the sight of the two faces that haunted her dreams and it was almost like she was back there, in the white facility with blood on her hands, covering the walls.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” a female voice announced and Wanda immediately recognized it as Miss P’s, a shiver running down her spine in the process. “Hand Isabel over.”

“Don’t know who you’re talking about,” Sam yelled back. “And we aren’t handing anyone over.”

"Such a shame,” Miss P replied. “I asked nicely too.”

The next few minutes were a blur as gunfire started pouring in from all sides and Wanda found herself casting a shield over the four of them, gritting her teeth to keep it in place. 

“Guys, she can’t keep this up for long,” Natasha warned, noticing the sweat trickling down Wanda’s face. “What do we do, Cap?”

“Everything we can to keep Wanda out of their hands.”

And the shield suddenly dissolved, bullets pouring in, soldiers running towards them as grenades exploded around them, sending Times Square into a fire-filled chaos as the four of them leap into action.         

\---

“Sir, I’ve located them,” FRIDAY said, pulling up live news footage in the middle of the room.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

\---

"Take me," Natasha shouted on her knees, watching Wanda under the grip of the man she assumed was Thorne, the woman standing next to him presumably Primalova. A soldier stood next to her, holding a gun to her head.

Before, when she was still fighting SWORD’s army, she’d remembered feeling a slight prick in her neck. Minutes later, she felt herself losing control of her legs and a gun was pointed to the side of her head moments after. The only things she could feel now were her arms and torso, and she didn’t know how long that would last.

Smoke rose around them, the death and destruction around them evident with the piles of rubble on the ground. She could hear Steve and Sam fighting in the background, attempting to reach them.

But all she could really focus on was Wanda, struggling under the arms holding her in place.

"I'm what you want anyway, right? What you hoped to achieve with your stupid program?" Natasha continued and she couldn’t control the rawness of her voice, the emotion seeping into her tone.

Natasha watched in horror as Primalova pulled out a shock collar, fasting it around Wanda’s neck, tearing her heart into two as she stared into Wanda’s eyes, the fear in them evident. She found herself attempting to inch forward, surprised to find that she could almost feel her legs again, but the gun was pressed harder into her head, stopping her from moving closer.

"Nat, don’t-" Wanda cried out, her voice cracking but was silenced by an electric shock ripping through her body and Natasha felt a pang in her chest watching Wanda go limp under Thorne’s grip, the brunette sinking to her knees.  

"Take me. Spare her,” Natasha said again, knowing there was a wild look in her eyes, her walls betraying her by showing everyone how  _ desperate  _ she was but she couldn’t help it, she just needed to keep Wanda safe.

"That would be foolish,” Primalova suddenly said, her tone icy as she stared into Natasha’s eyes. “Isabel is ours. You are not.”

"It was pretty fucking foolish to take Wanda in the first place," Natasha retorted, spitting her words out with spite.

She could see Primalova’s eyes narrow as the woman stared at Natasha. "You are not what we want.”

"Really? I have a pretty similar skill set to what you've been trying to cultivate in those," Natasha motioned with her head to the soldiers in the background, "individuals over there."

Natasha felt herself attempting to stand up again, this time her legs slowly moving, but she was stopped by the gun to the side of her head. Wanda was still limp, her brown hair slightly covering up her face and Natasha could barely take this anymore.

_ “They’ve come to get me.” _

"I was made to be whoever anyone wants me to be," Natasha said again, still on her knees, trying to keep her voice as level as possible because,  _ fuck,  _ she couldn’t let them take Wanda if she could help it. "I'm sure you've read reports on the Red Room program? Probably taken notes?"

_ “I’m not going to let that happen.”  _

"You're looking for weapons, not humans," Natasha continued, her voice hardened, "and I am a weapon."

_ “I promise.” _

Natasha stood up in one swift motion, not caring about the weapon still pointed at her head (all she could see was Wanda. all she cared about was Wanda). She heard the slight click, knowing the safety had just come off.

Natasha watched as Primalova shook her head slightly and suddenly the barrel of the gun was gone, the weapon lowered.

"I can take her place. I can be who you want me to be," Natasha said, holding her hands up in a motion of surrender, walking slowly towards Thorne and Primalova, Wanda still limp.

_ “I promise.” _

"You just have to spare her,” Natasha continued, carefully stepped over a body on the ground, making her way to the trio, her hands still held up. She stopped a couple of feet from them, still staring into Primalova’s eyes, the woman’s gaze hard.

_ “I promise.” _

The woman stared at her, the next words coming out of her mouth, almost in slow motion. “Admirable, Widow. But you must be a complete imbecile for thinking we would agree.” 

_ “I promi-” _

A flurry of motion, a flash of metal, and one sound:

**_Bang._ **

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> zero regrets.
> 
> Again, I cannot say this enough, I'm so sorry for the upload gap. Hopefully, it won't be as long before I upload the next chapter...  
> and I swear, I do have a proper ending in mind for this. It's just a question of getting there.
> 
> Also, thank you thank you thank you everyone for the incredible support that this fic has gotten and for being patient with me! (feel free to comment/rant/express rage at what i've just done in the comments, i'll be responding to all of them i promise!)
> 
>  
> 
> (somewhere, in the back of my mind...  
> "do people even read this anymore?" i honestly have no idea lol)


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